


The Masks We Wear

by Katie_Dub



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 11:19:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8530996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie_Dub/pseuds/Katie_Dub
Summary: Killian and Emma are colleagues, friends and they’re madly in love with each other. If only they could work out that their feelings are totally requited. But then, if they still haven’t figured out that they work together as superheroes in their spare time, there’s probably no hope for them. Probably.





	1. Chapter 1

Emma dropped her lunch down on the table, slumping low in the chair next to it. There was a magazine lying there. The oh so imaginative headline _Heroes!_ jumped out at her.

She did not have time for that shit. Especially not on her lunch hour.

With a sigh she flipped the magazine over, wanting to ignore all reminders of her superpowered alter ego, only to be confronted by a separate headline _Villains!_ accompanied by a shot of “The Dark One” in all his glittery skinned glory.

_How do they not see that he's Gold?_

Unbidden the memory of a similar conversation with The Survivor resurfaced.

_“People don't see what they don't want to,” he grinned, but the smile was cold and didn't reach his eyes. “For instance this mask of yours,” he trailed a finger along the edge of cloth covering the upper part of her face. His touch made her shiver and she longed to nuzzle into his hand, but such luxuries were for normal people, not them._

_She realised that he'd stopped speaking, perhaps as caught up in the moment as her. The realisation hit him at the same moment he met her eyes and he moved away._

_“Your mask is hardly the most effective of disguises -”_

_“Speak for yourself! You-”_

_“I do,” he cut her off with a chuckle. “We, both of us,” he gestured between the two of them, “have terrible disguises that we'd advise against anyone actually using while trying to conceal their identity. And yet, I bet no one, not once, has mentioned that you look even a little similar to your counterpart.”_

_He had a strange expression on his face, as though trying not to think about some normal girl back in his real life with whom he wanted to share his own burden. It shouldn’t make her jealous, not when her thoughts were rapidly filling with the one man that she desperately wanted to recognise her. Killian, always so perceptive, except when it came to the secret she couldn't tell anyone, but she needed him to work it out, to just know -_

_“Gold stopped the O.G.R.E. War. They think he's a bloody hero, why would they doubt him now?”_

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the discomfort that came from thinking too hard. The movement made her glasses slip down her nose, so she pushed them back up before looking at the magazine again. She flicked through it to distract herself, ignoring the memories clamouring for her attention.

From the front, the magazine was all about the heroes of their city, profiles and photos and speculation detailing each hero. From the back it was the villains. _Because apparently those scumbags have groupies too._ She hastily flipped past the section on The Saviour, glancing furtively around, always scared someone would make the connection between herself and her alter ego.

_Secretly hoping that Killian would make the connection._

She smiled when she reached the centrefold. Of course it was him. How could it not be? .

She was confronted by a double page spread on the former villain and her sometime ally, Hook. Or The Survivor as some had taken to calling him, declaring that continuing to use the villainous moniker was denying all the good that he had done for the city.

She personally used to quite like calling him Hook. Although she couldn’t deny that the look on his face the first time she called him The Survivor had lifted her heart. Something about the wonder in his gaze had infected her, his joy sending droplets of warmth and happiness through her veins.

She hadn’t called him Hook since. Now he was always The Survivor, or usually just TS, to her.

She smiled dreamily, absentmindedly stroking the page along the strong line of his jaw.

“What’s that you’re reading, Swan?”

She jumped back from the magazine guiltily, she didn’t need Killian to know that she had a crush on a superhero. She’d never hear the end of it.

 _And he might give up on you._ The voice in her mind continued to remind her.

She didn’t say a word just shoved the magazine article in his direction as he sat down beside her.

 _“The Survivor or Hook: Just Who Is The Villain Turned Hero And Can We Really Trust Him?”_ He read out in a deadpan voice, one eyebrow arched at her choice of reading material. “Seriously, Swan? You’re giving that scoundrel the time of day?”

“He is _not_ a scoundrel!” she snapped back without thinking, her voice softening in spite of herself as she continued, “he’s a good man.”

“Oh, is he, indeed? Do I sense a little crush there, Swan?” His eyebrows were dancing and there was a twinkle in his eye.

_I’ve got a crush on you, you idiot._

“I was just referring to the facts.” She tried to shut down his allegations, but she could feel the beginnings of a blush in her cheeks.  She couldn’t let him know he was right. “I mean, look at all the good he’s done recently: he helped the Nevengers defeat Zelena. He set Ursula on the straight and narrow when that bitch seriously had the makings of another Evil Queen so god knows how many lives that saved. He rescued that group of nuns -”

“As I recall there was some suggestion it was Hook’s fault they needed rescuing in the first place.” His brows furrowed.

She narrowed her eyes at Killian, really looking at him for the first time in their exchange. He was being downright weird, refusing to meet her eyes and shuffling awkwardly. If she didn’t know any better she’d actually describe him as shifty.

“As I recall, he was cleared of all charges, I believe he was working undercover. Besides, I would’ve thought you of all people would admire his good form or whatever.”

She’d meant it to come off teasingly, imitating his oft-used expression. And yet, he looked up at her sharply, his voice was rough when he spoke cautiously, “and why would I do that?”

“Well, because of, you know,” she gestured vaguely in the direction of his prosthetic, she didn’t really like to draw his attention to it, didn’t like him to think she saw him as any less of a man. “There just aren’t very many differently abled superheroes.”

His eyes filled with understanding, and for a split second she saw a strangely fierce expression cross over his beautiful face.

“I thought the idea was that all superheroes were differently abled,” he joked at her and, while his tone was light, she felt bad for ever bringing it up.

“Well, which heroes do you look up to, then? Wait. Let me guess, Ruby, right? She’s just your type, badass bitch and a beautiful brunette with big ti-”

“Actually, I quite fancy The Saviour, myself.”

She hoped that she didn’t actually gasp out loud, but she couldn’t really be sure. Her brain was screeching at her to be cool, for god’s sake, _be cool._

“Eh.”

“What was that Swan?”

“I said eh, she ain’t all that.” _Oh god, why did I just say that, this is the opposite of playing it cool, shut this panic attack down now._

“She ain’t all that?” He repeated slowly, imitating an American accent just to underscore how ridiculous he thought she was being. “Are you, by chance, jealous, Swan?”

“Not jealous, I just don’t see the appeal.”

“Don’t see the appeal?” He was flabbergasted. “Of a lady with actual magical powers? One who we as a city have yet to see fail? A stunning beauty with hair like softly spun gold and eyes that glow like-”

“Radioactive waste?” She muttered darkly. She did not know how to handle hearing Killian rhapsodise about, well, her.

Her alter ego at least. She wondered for the millionth time if she should just tell him and for the millionth time she told herself that she had to keep him at a distance to keep him safe.

“You’ve obviously never seen them in the flesh” Killian practically sighed, a little dreamily.

_Huh?_

“And you have?” She definitely would have remembered saving his life. She couldn’t help it if the odd fantasy of hers had actually featured him so grateful that she saved his life that he dropped to his knees and… well. She tried to act casual, “so when was your life in danger last?”

He shook himself a little.

“Oh, um, it hasn’t been. Ever. I just, have seen her, in action, but I don’t think she saw me.” He was scratching his neck like he did when he was nervous. “She was fighting one of her formidable foes. Probably a bit too busy to notice me,” he finished lamely.

There was something definitely strange about Killian now. Her superpower, well one of them, the little known lie detector one, was flashing a warning at her. He wasn't lying exactly, but he wasn't telling her the whole truth either. She studied him thoughtfully, he was clearly uncomfortable.

“Whatever you may think of our Saviour's divine eyes, does not detract from the many good deeds she has done for our city, nor does it lessen how impressive her magic truly is.”

It was doing strange things to her to hear Killian talk like this. She was trying hard not to just grab his shirt and yank his lips to hers. She could practically taste him, feel the way he’d tangle his fingers in her hair to force her closer, hear their panting as he kissed her breathless.

“Swan?” He was raising an eyebrow at her and God even the sight of that was making her feel funny.

“Don’t tell me the thought of stunning women working magic is doing it for you?” He ran his tongue across his lips with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Just moments ago that action would’ve been enough for her to finally crack and just devour his lips, but his words were like a cold shower.

“What was that? Sorry I was too busy thinking about how good it would feel to be rescued by a devilishly handsome man,” she paused, delighted to see the way his eyes widened at his favourite descriptor of himself.

“Devilishly handsome?” He leapt in before she could finish her thought. “You wound me, how could you describe anyone but me as such?”

“Oh Killian, now’s not the time to get jealous.”

“Why would I be jealous? We’re not together, love, you’re free to fancy as many so called ‘heroes’ as you wish.”

“ _So called heroes?_ And just how many times have you rescued people from burning buildings? That man is literally impossible to kill!”

“Once or twice? You know, for something to do on a Tuesday evening.”

“We both know Tuesday evenings are for Netflix -”

“And chill?” Did Killian’s eyebrows ever stay still? She rolled her eyes at him.

“There will be no chilling with me, Jones. As you say, we’re not together. And as for the jealousy, I just thought you might find it hard to hear about another devilishly handsome man. I must say, I think I was right.”

“Well I must say this has been an enlightening conversation. And now that I know you’re partial to men in leather jackets I think I’ve worked out just how to win your heart, Swan.”

“Oh really?” She was certain she was pulling the strangest face in an attempt to stay neutral. She couldn’t let him see that his words were melting her insides.

“Well I’ll buy a shiny new leather coat, and, once I’m dressed the part, just send a few distressed kittens my way. That way I know you’ll finally agree to joining me for a date.”

She was trying so hard not to pant at the thought of Killian in leather that she almost forgot to reply.

“Keep dreaming, Jones.” She said lightly, standing up.

“Where are you going? You’ve hardly touched your food.” His expression had turned from suave ladykiller to confused puppy dog in a nanosecond.

“Not feeling all that hungry.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, forcing herself to look casual. She was rebuilding her walls quickly so they could contain the molten mass that used to be her heart, to keep it safe. “And I have work to do. We can’t all be stunning beauties with actual magical powers.”

She turned quickly to leave but even a half seen glimpse of his hurt expression pained her. She hurried away before she could change her mind.

He didn’t need to win her heart, it was already his. And those walls? They weren’t to protect her. They were to protect him.

***

_His mission was clear: take care of The Saviour. Do this and the Queen of Hearts would help him defeat the Dark One._

_He was no fool, he knew she meant for him to kill The Saviour. But she hadn't specified and as all she really needed was The Saviour to be occupied for a few hours, he was more inclined to seduce her._

_He turned the corner into the darkened alley, and his eyes caught his prey._

_Her back was to him and he gazed admiringly at her tight trousers and red leather jacket. Oh yes, this was going to be fun._

_“Well well well, if it isn't a lost girl alone in the dark.”_

_She stiffened at his words and turned to face him. He was stunned by the sight before him. A thin mask was covering her face, but still he could see that she had the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. He longed to rip the mask off so he could get a better look at them._

_Perhaps when I have her screaming my name she'll consent to revealing her lovely face. He thought, licking his lips in anticipation._

_“Hook.” She looked deeply unimpressed. He did love a challenge._

_“My reputation precedes me.”_

_“So does your ego,” she said rolling her eyes. “What do you want, Hook?”_

_“I was out for a moonlit stroll when I saw a beautiful lady and I wanted the pleasure of her company, is that a crime, love?” He grinned, staring straight into her eyes. He watched as they widened a little, seemingly caught by his charming words. A split second later her eyes turned hard and in a moment she had shoved him hard against the wall._

_The force knocked the air from his lungs._

_He shut down his momentary confusion, he had seen the want in her eyes, he deflected from his thoughts with biting innuendo._

_“If you wanted me against the wall, love, all you had to do was ask.”_

_“You're lying. Why are you really here? Did the Queen of Hearts send you?”_

_He was on the verge of speaking when she put a knife to his throat. He hissed at the action, his earlier hopes for seduction slowly dying in the face of her clear disdain._

_“Are you here to kill me?”_

_“No.”_

_She pressed the knife harder still._

_“Surely you know that can't kill me, I'm a survivor, love.”_

_“I'm sure it hurts all the same.” He tried not to swallow. He couldn't let her see how right she was. She had a challenging look in her bright green eyes._

_“I was hoping to seduce you.” He saw the flicker of shock and desire that flared suddenly in her eyes. “I can see now that that was a fool's errand, the Queen did indeed send me after you. Her instructions were suitably vague, but rest assured I would certainly have taken care of you and your every need.”_

_While he spoke she dropped the knife to her side. He had pressed forward, murmuring his last words into her ear, he could feel her breath on his neck, enjoying both the slight tickle and the evidence that she was nearly panting. He brushed his nose just under her ear, nuzzling her neck with the softest of touches._

_She pushed him back to the wall again. He ignored the pang of rejection and chuckled softly._

_“Listen buddy, I'm The Saviour, not some villain groupie. The mask and the eyeliner do nothing for me.”_

_Her tone was cold but her body language was screaming with suppressed lust._

_“Oh but darling I would make it so good for you.”_

_He was enjoying the game, and he wanted to keep playing. Despite his current dark path he had no desire to hurt any lady, and certainly not this angel. He was a lover, not a fighter._

_She didn't respond, just punched him hard enough to knock him sideways._

_“It's bad form to hit an unarmed man.”_

_Her eyes flicked down to his hook, then back to his eyes._

_“You're hardly unarmed, Hook.”_

_They circled each other warily, she once again was gripping the knife she'd previously held to his throat. He was irritated that things were ending like this, and yet, he was also confused._

_“It's not that I don't enjoy dancing with you love, but don't you have magic? Can't you just wave your hands, say abracadabra and you'll have bested me?”_

_“Perhaps I wanted to make it a fair fight.” She looked deeply uncomfortable. There was something strange going on._

_“Up against a damn near immortal man who has a deadly weapon on his person at all times without using your superpowers. That sounds entirely fair.” He cocked his head at her, pushing for answers, genuinely puzzled. “You do have magic, don't you?”_

_He sensed her panic before she lunged at him. He caught her knife against his hook easily._

_“We don't have to do this, love. It hardly seems good form when you are clearly incapacitated somehow.” Another thrust of her knife was easily blocked. She came at him again and again. All he did was weave away from her blows, defending himself with his hook, but nothing more._

_She ran at him once last time, knocking him to the ground. She straddled him but seemed unsure of her next move. He seized the moment of her uncertainty, rolling them so he was on top of her._

_“I prefer to do far more enjoyable activities with a lady on her back, but as you've made it clear such advances are unwelcome, here we are.”_

_She scowled up at him, a defiant glare masking the terror he could see lurking within her._

_“I do not wish to hurt you. I only need the Queen’s assistance to defeat The Dark One, she is a means to his end, as it were.”_

_“This is about Gold?”_

_He was startled to hear he wasn't the only one who knew the truth of The Dark One’s true identity._

_“Aye.”_

_“You're only helping the Queen to destroy him?”_

_He was getting irritated by this line of questioning._

_“Aye. What of it?”_

_“I have a way to destroy him. Want to join the heroes? Be part of something good?”_

_This was a wholly unanticipated turn of events. He gazed deep into her eyes, searching for the lie._

_“What would you want in return?”_

_“One less bad guy on the streets, extra help to bring down the supervillain terrorising Storybrooke and just get the hell off me, OK?”_

_He sat back on his heels, but stayed above her. He was weighing his options. Siding with The Saviour was tempting - he'd be on his path becoming a better man for the woman he loved - unrequitedly - after all. He'd be free of doing dirty work for a string of villains and it would mean more time with this beauty. And yet, this would make the Queen of Hearts his enemy and he'd seen up close what she did to those who had crossed her. He wasn't exactly keen to test just how immortal he really was. He still wasn't sure if The Saviour was just playing him, using his obvious desire against him._

_As he looked into her eyes, he saw the same lust, wariness, and above all hope that he was feeling. Just like that he decided he would always be on her side, even if he had to go to the end of the world or time for her._

_“Tell you what, tell me honestly why you haven’t yet turned me into a toad - or whatever you witches do - and I might agree to join your cause.” He could see fear in her eyes, and feel the hesitation radiating off of her, “Try something new darling, it's called trust.”_

_She opened her mouth looking like she might finally share something. He waited a moment, smiling encouragingly._

_“How do I know you won’t use this against me?”_

_“Well, that would be where the trust part comes in, love.”_

_The silence went on far longer than was comfortable. He moved off her and helped her to sit up, rubbing her back reassuringly. He was pleasantly surprised that she allowed his touch, and delighted in how it felt to touch her, however innocent it may be._

_“I don't know how, but Gold, he - I think he took my magic.”_

_Suddenly the last few minutes replayed in his head. She had been near defenceless the whole time, it actually made him feel a little ill. He had let lust lead to bad form-_

_“Is the foreplay over now then?”_

_The Queen of Hearts loomed out of the shadows. She looked down at Hook in disgust as he moved in front of The Saviour protectively._

_“I should have known you'd choose her. Never send a man to do a woman's job.”_

_She waved her hand and he was tossed against the wall. He watched in horror as she plunged her hand into The Saviour's chest. And became stuck. A wide grin spread across his face as she attempted to tug her hand back. He started to laugh despite himself._

_The Queen looked his way, her face a terrible mask of anger. In that moment there was a great flash of light and she was forced back from The Saviour._

_If she was angry before, she was radiating pure fury now. He quickly scrambled to his feet, rushing forward to defend The Saviour, moving on instinct because clearly she didn't need rescuing._

_The Queen looked at him in disgust, and for one terrible moment he thought she was going to strike. She looked back to The Saviour, before cocking her head to him._

_“You're welcome to him,” she said, before disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke._

_He walked to The Saviour's side, eyes filling with wonder as he looked at her._

_“Looks like you've got your magic back, love. So what's next?” -_

“Killian Jones, are you listening to me?”

_Fuck, no._

“I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that, Regina.”

“Do you have the Wandsworth Report?” She spoke very deliberately, her lips pursed in disapproval.

He handed the file to her wordlessly.

“Next time, you make me come to you, you'll lose the other hand.” He wasn't entirely sure she was joking, he'd met demonic supervillains with less bloodlust than her.

_Perhaps she is a supervillain, he mused. She's definitely got the Evil Queen's nasty streak._

But of course the mention of supervillains brought his mind back to his favourite superhero, The Saviour.

He had been reliving their first meeting when Regina had so rudely interrupted him. That day was still so clear in his mind, the day she saved his life. Meeting her had sent his life spiralling off into a new direction, filled with meaning and purpose. How could he not love her?

_But..._

There was still Emma.

Hook may love The Saviour, but Killian Jones was in love with Emma Swan.

He had met her on his first day at Mills & Daughters. Back then he was still fueled by rage, his heart was still withered, after the death of both his Milah and his beloved brother, Liam. She had barged into his life, all biting sarcasm and ungainly limbs (with the soft squidgy heart of a teddy bear she kept hidden from all but the chosen few, including him) and had him literally falling at her feet when his first sighting of her caused him to trip on the stairs.

It was several months before he realised that she had made him whole again. But it was that day, the day he met The Saviour that it first struck him.

Regina was in a foul mood and swore blind that they had messed up a joint report. As punishment, they had been assigned to do some menial task that involved them being alone in a tiny room all day. He couldn't tell you what they were doing or if he even completed the task successfully, for his every thought was consumed by Emma. The slightest touch or half sigh from her had sent pure desire coursing through his veins. As he concentrated hard on not grabbing her and ravishing her right there on the desk, he was struck by how hard his heart was pounding. He wondered at the effect Emma's very presence had on his heart.

And that's when he knew he was in love.

In unrequited love, a doomed love. For what villain earned a happy ending? Who among them deserved it? But Emma Swan? She was the best of people and she deserved the happiest of endings.

He had gone out that night to “take care of The Saviour” throbbing with unresolved sexual tension. He fully intended to act out every fantasy he'd had about Emma Swan on her willing flesh.

But The Saviour was no random hook-up and she would not be treated as such. By the night's end, she had him agreeing to a whole new life as a hero. And for all that it had caused his hope of being the kind of man Emma deserved it had presented a new dilemma: no hero's beau was ever left alone. She would be a target and so she could never be his.

But The Saviour? Well, everyone knew how Snow White and Prince Charming had found their happy ending. Perhaps two heroes together would be safe.

If only his heart would let him forget Emma.

He looked at his watch and was relieved to see it was lunchtime. He strode off to the common room, collecting his lunch from the kitchen as he went.

He stopped when he saw Emma sat at the table. He wasn't sure he could cope with her right then.

Not when his head and his heart were full of The Saviour. Not when her long blonde hair was tumbling over her shoulders and he longed to run his fingers through it. Not when he couldn't decide whether he wanted to hold her close forever or run and hide from her.

He took a deep breath and walked towards her, she was idly moving her fingers across a magazine. As he drew closer he could see that she was stroking a picture, of Hook. Of me.

He stopped at that, briefly considering running away.

_Behold the great and terrible Hook, on the verge of fleeing from a harmless woman._

He ran his hand through his hair.

_Bloody hell. Is this how Clark Kent feels when he sees his girl lusting for Superman?_

He shook himself, he was the one in love with two women. He had no right to feel hurt that she fancied what she thought was another man. He mustered all of his cocky charm and tried his hardest to act natural.

“What’s that you’re reading, Swan?”

She jumped snatching her hands back from the magazine, startled. He sat down beside her, selfishly enjoying the slight awkwardness to her movements she always got when she was flustered. It’s nice to know I can have that effect on her. She was clearly trying to play it cool, however badly, thrusting the magazine at him without saying a word.

If she was going to act like it was no big deal, so was he.

 _“The Survivor or Hook: Just Who Is The Villain Turned Hero And Can We Really Trust Him?”_ He quirked an eyebrow. “Seriously, Swan? You’re giving that scoundrel the time of day?”

“He is _not_ a scoundrel!” she threw back at him. He struggled not to smile to hear her defending him, “he’s a good man.”

He couldn't hold back his grin to hear her slightly gooey tone. Even if she never thought of him that way here in the real world, it was an absolute delight to hear her speak of his alter ego in such a way.

“Oh, is he, indeed? Do I sense a little crush there, Swan?” He couldn't help how much he was enjoying this, his eyebrows dancing with his amusement.

“I was just referring to the facts.” Her tone was all business, but he could see the blush that was creeping across her cheeks. She looked so flustered that his heart swelled and he was filled with a sudden urge to kiss her. An urge that had to remain unfulfilled. “I mean, look at all the good he’s done recently: he helped the Nevengers defeat Zelena. He set Ursula on the straight and narrow when that bitch seriously had the makings of another Evil Queen so god knows how many lives that saved. He rescued that group of nuns -”

_Why did she have to bring up those bloody nuns?_

He'd been in such a good mood and had almost started to believe that he was as good as she was saying he was. But what he nearly let Gold do to those poor nuns weighed heavily on his soul.

He couldn't help the frown that spread across his face as he cut her off.

“As I recall there was some suggestion it was Hook’s fault they needed rescuing in the first place.”

He couldn't look at her, his former delight had swiftly evaporated as uncomfortable memories forced their way into his consciousness. He couldn't sit still, feeling her eyes upon him, again he considered fleeing the scene and running away from the unpleasant reminder of his dark and villainous past.

“As I recall, he was cleared of all charges, I believe he was working undercover.” That's what he'd wanted them all to think. “Besides, I would’ve thought you of all people would admire his good form or whatever.”

He looked up sharply, she couldn't possibly know of his connection to Hook, could she? What else could that mean?

“And why would I do that?” He forced himself to speak slowly, hoping to affect a blasé attitude towards her answer.

“Well, because of, you know,” she gestured towards his prosthesis, and his concern that she was onto him only grew. “There just aren’t very many differently abled superheroes.”

Relief flooded through him as he grasped the meaning of her words. And yet he couldn't help the feeling of irritation and jealousy that also pulsed through him momentarily. He wanted her to have worked it out, he needed her to know.

 _Get a grip, Killian_. He warned himself, pushing down the unjust feelings that caused him nothing but pain.

“I thought the idea was that all superheroes were differently abled,” he thought his tone was the perfect mix of nonchalant and joking, but her face fell almost imperceptibly and he kicked himself for bringing her down.

“Well, which heroes do you look up to, then? Wait. Let me guess, Ruby, right? She’s just your type, badass bitch and a beautiful brunette with big ti-”

Ah. She thought he preferred brunettes. It was true, before the double whammy of Emma and The Saviour convincing him that blonde was best, he always had tended towards sultry brunettes. Not one of them came close to either of his lady loves.

“Actually, I quite fancy The Saviour, myself.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea ever, revealing (some of) his feelings for one lass to the other. But when both were seemingly unattainable, where was the harm?

“Eh.”

“What was that Swan?” He almost thought that she had been derisive about The Saviour, but why on earth would she do that?

“I said eh, she ain’t all that.”

“She ain’t all that?” He mimicked her words, confused by her odd reaction to the whole conversation. A thought crossed his mind, a little flicker of hope, “are you, by chance, jealous, Swan?”

“Not jealous, I just don’t see the appeal.”

“Don’t see the appeal?” He was flabbergasted. It was hard not to rhapsodise about such a vision. He could see The Saviour so clearly before him, he felt like if he reached out he could actually touch her. “Of a lady with actual magical powers? One who we as a city have yet to see fail? A stunning beauty with hair like softly spun gold and eyes that glow like-”

“Radioactive waste?” He thought of the way The Saviour’s green eyes glowed when she used magic. He would describe it more like sunshine sparkling on emeralds.  And while he perhaps should have focused on Emma’s undeniable jealousy, he was too caught up in his memories.

“You’ve obviously never seen them in the flesh.”

_She gave him a wink before holding out a hand and blasting their foe with her magic. As the brilliant light crackled from her fingers, her eyes glowed a vivid green, she had never looked more lovely. -_

“And you have?” Emma's question broke him out of his reverie, “so when was your life in danger last?”

_Fuck._

“Oh, um, it hasn’t been. Ever. I just, have seen her, in action, but I don’t think she saw me.” He was trying to be cool, but he started scratching his neck, almost involuntarily. He knew she knew him well enough to recognise his nervous tic so he forced himself to stop. “She was fighting one of her formidable foes. Probably a bit too busy to notice me.”

Even he could hear how pathetic that sounded, considering his secret life he really should be better at spinning a lie. She was watching him carefully, he needed to deflect her attention away from him and fast.

“Whatever you may think of our Saviour's divine eyes, does not detract from the many good deeds she has done for our city, nor does it lessen how impressive her magic truly is.”

She still wasn't talking. At first it was disconcerting, like she was still trying to dissect and understand his lies.

“Swan?” He was getting truly disturbed, until he noticed the way her pupils were dilating, and, God, was she panting?

An image sprang instantly to mind of Emma and The Saviour both writhing in his bed, dressed in skimpy lingerie and reaching out for him. Oh, how good it would feel to have both of them touching him, to see them touch each other.

“Don’t tell me the thought of stunning women working magic is doing it for you?” He licked his lips as he said it, secretly hoping his fantasy could come true.

“What was that? Sorry I was too busy thinking about how good it would feel to be rescued by a devilishly handsome man,” _Oh God. That look was for Hook. She thinks he's - that I'm - handsome._ It was dangerous territory, he wasn't comfortable with the spotlight once again on his alter ego. There was just too much of a risk that she'd figure him out.

“Devilishly handsome? You wound me, how could you describe anyone but me as such?”

“Oh Killian, now’s not the time to get jealous.”

It perhaps wasn't ideal to come off like an envious fool, but at least she didn't seem to be catching onto him. There was nothing for it, he'd have to play it up and hope she took it all as a joke.

“Why would I be jealous? We’re not together, love, you’re free to fancy as many so called ‘heroes’ as you wish.”

“ _So called heroes?_ And just how many times have you rescued people from burning buildings? That man is literally impossible to kill!”

He couldn't help but grin at the way she defended him. Well, his counterpart anyway. And he couldn't resist the obvious teasing response.

“Once or twice? You know, for something to do on a Tuesday evening.”

“We both know Tuesday evenings are for Netflix -”

“And chill?” He wiggled his eyebrows, happy now that he was on far more comfortable ground, sticking with their usual innuendo and banter. She rolled her eyes at him.

“There will be no chilling with me, Jones. As you say, we’re not together. And as for the jealousy, I just thought you might find it hard to hear about another devilishly handsome man. I must say, I think I was right.”

“Well I must say this has been an enlightening conversation.” _You haven't figured me out yet. But you do have a crush on me. Well, after a fashion._ “And now that I know you’re partial to men in leather jackets I think I’ve worked out just how to win your heart, Swan.”

“Oh really?” Maybe his lust-soaked brain was playing tricks on him, but he swore she looked a little intrigued, hopeful, even.

“Well I’ll buy a shiny new leather coat, and, once I’m dressed the part, just send a few distressed kittens my way. That way I know you’ll finally agree to joining me for a date.”

He had expected a laugh, perhaps a derisive snort and almost certainly an eye roll. Definitely not this yearning look, there was no chance it really was Killian she desired, was there?

“Keep dreaming, Jones.” She said lightly, standing up.

“Where are you going? You’ve hardly touched your food.” He had scared her off, right when he thought he was making a breakthrough. Didn't he know her well enough to know that even baby steps could be too much for his Swan?

_And besides, you can't stick a target on her back. It'd be bad form to put the woman you love in harm's way._

“Not feeling all that hungry.” She was doing the forced casual thing he hated, even tossing her hair over her shoulder, her body language screaming _“I'm fine, why wouldn't I be fine? Maybe you're not fine.”_ He clenched his jaw in frustration. “And I have work to do. We can’t all be stunning beauties with actual magical powers.”

And just like that she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on The Masks We Wear...
> 
> We met our heroes Emma Swan AKA The Saviour and Killian Jones AKA Hook AKA The Survivor. They work together, are best friends and love each other by day as average Joes and by night as superheroes. If only they had the courage to share their secret identities and reveal their true feelings...
> 
> "She didn't need Killian to know that she had a crush on a superhero. She'd never hear the end of it.
> 
> And he might give up on you."
> 
> "Actually, I quite fancy The Saviour, myself."
> 
> "What was that? Sorry I was too busy thinking about how good it would feel to be rescued by a devilishly handsome man."
> 
> "Hook may love The Saviour, but Killian Jones was in love with Emma Swan."
> 
> "He didn't need to win her heart, it was already his. And those walls? They weren't to protect her. They were to protect him."

Killian was still reeling from his conversation with Emma while he got ready for an evening of superheroing. He almost stabbed himself in the eye with his eyeliner he was so unsteady. He didn't know whether to be delighted or devastated that she fancied Hook.

It was certainly obvious that she wanted him, but only in a mask, only while wearing his hook. It was wonderful to know someone accepted this side of him, but surely this meant that as Killian - as his normal, boring self - he never stood a chance.

_Stop tormenting yourself_ , he chided, _you know she can never be yours anyway._

As he clicked his hook into place and slipped on his mask, her words continued to echo through his mind.

_“I was too busy thinking about how good it would feel to be rescued by a devilishly handsome man.”_

On some level he knew she had said that to disarm him, but why on earth would she do that? There was something nagging at him deep in his subconscious. He was missing something, something important.

Usually Emma Swan was like an open book to him. He prided himself on how well he understood her, but this? There was something more to this. And he was going to figure it out, even if it was the last thing he did. After he was done saving the world, of course...

He slipped out of the fire escape and made his way down to the tunnels below Storybrooke, trying not to think about the two ladies that haunted his every waking moment.

When he finally strode into Nevengers HQ he was accosted by Belle - or The Librarian as she was known to the general public - wrapping her arms around him in a big hug, which he happily returned.

He looked around the room to see who else was there, so far The Author, Tinkerbell, Prince Charming and Snow White. Now he knew them as Henry, Tina, Dave and, well, Snow. (Because _“I don't want to be Mary Margaret anymore.”_ apparently).

While all the Nevengers were smiling and waving at his arrival, it was hard not to consider how far he'd come with them all. Especially not while he was in such a reflective mood.

_The Saviour had insisted on blindfolding him before taking him to Nevengers HQ._

_“If I'd known you were into bondage, darling, I'd have brought my handcuffs.” She didn't respond. His eyes were covered, but he could practically hear her eyes rolling. Oh yes, teaming up with The Saviour was going to be fun._

_She led him along a torturous route, doubling back and changing direction more times than was strictly necessary he was sure. He was on the verge of saying just that when she removed his blindfold._

_“So we're here, but, um, I better go talk to them by myself first, just so they don't shoot you on sight or something.”_

_He folded his arms and leaned back against the wall._

_“I can wait.”_

_“Um..”_

_“Problem, Saviour?” She looked embarrassed._

_“There's an airlock that you should wait in, and you'll have to wear these.” She thrust a pair of handcuffs at him. He fixed her with an incredulous gaze, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow even though he knew the mask would hide it. Still, he could tell that she caught the full meaning of the look. She shuffled awkwardly and wasn't looking him in the eye. A million innuendos were running through his head, but he stayed silent, not wanting to push her when it was clearly taking her so much effort to let him in._

_“As you wish” he held his arms out, brace and wrist together to allow her to snap the handcuffs on._

_She eyed him warily._

_“That's it? No comments about where I was hiding these? No ‘you can tie me up any time’? No…” she faltered, “nothing?”_

_“Something tells me it's not the time, love. Truly, it's OK,” He nodded down to his hand and hook to show his consent, continuing to meet her gaze. He could see that his sincerity seemed to make her more uncertain still. She was like a skittish cat, not unlike his Emma Swan, and he knew a good innuendo could always put her at ease. “You're not going to make me beg you to tie me up, are you darling?”_

_She snorted, “please” and slapped the cuffs on him. She led him through the first set of doors into the airlock, then left him with a mumbled “I'll be back soon”._

_So he waited, wondering if this was the right course for him. Then he saw Emma Swan in his mind's eye. He imagined rescuing her from a terrible villain. She'd wrap her arms around him, and look up at him from under her long lashes, whispering “thank you” as she moved in closer and he ran his fingers into her golden hair -_

_The doors opened._

_“You're up, buddy. Just, be nice, OK?”_

_“Oh, I'm always nice, love. Unless the lady requests otherwise.” He ran his tongue across his lips, deflecting from his annoyance at her implication with innuendo._

_She huffed out a sigh and fixed him with a look that said “really?” more plainly than words ever could._

_“I said nice, not seductive, Hook. Can't you just behave? I'm sticking my neck out for you.”_

_He sobered up at that. It was true, she was offering him far more than he deserved. When he spoke again his voice was full of sincerity._

_“Aye, you truly are my Saviour,” he smiled at the slight blush that appeared on her cheeks. “I'll do my best to be worthy of you.”_

_Once again he noted how uncomfortable he made her when praising her. He frowned, considering her status surely she must hear such praise every day, had love really been so rare in her life?_

_“Right.” She spoke more to herself than him, as if trying to shake herself out of a daze. Had he done that to her? The thought made him smile, but he didn't get to linger on it for long before she pulled him through the double doors and into headquarters._

_Bright lights struck his eyes, he had to blink hard to adjust after being blindfolded for so long. The room was white and shiny. Like a modern TV take on heaven._ I wonder how they keep it so clean _, he mused, wilfully ignoring the real issue at hand. Would they accept him?_

_The Nevengers were all assembled around a large white table, all lounging in white chairs. He had a serious urge to make a sarcastic comment about the decor, but bit his tongue and said nothing, remembering what he’d said to The Saviour._ Behave.

_She pushed him roughly into a chair and slumped into the one next to him._

_They all stared at him._

_“Why do I feel like I’m here to beg for my life?” He joked, knowing that it was feeble._

_“Maybe you are.” This came from a man Killian guessed was in his early thirties, he had all-American good looks and his strong arms folded across his chest. Even with the mask that covered his eyes, Killian could still see disapproval written all over his face._

_“Hey, what about trusting in my abilities?” Killian glanced sideways at The Saviour, confused by this._

_“Don’t you have magic? I hardly see what that has to do with this.”_

_She glared at him and simply stated, “you can have more than one.”_

_“It’s not that we don’t believe you honey, but all we see is a villain -” a dainty girl with a pixie cut began, “who tried to kill me.” This first girl had been cut short by a pretty girl with long tumbling curls. She was sending murderous looks his way._

_Judging by her accent, she was Australian, and while her face did ring a bell, honestly he’d hurt so many people by this point it was hard to remember them all. He pushed down a wave of revulsion at his actions, and fought back with the only weapon in his armoury for such occasions, sarcasm._

_“Oops.” The Saviour stomped down hard on his foot, grinding his toes into the floor. He winced, “sorry?” He couldn’t decide whether the apology or The Saviour’s boot crushing his foot hurt more, but he wanted both to be over._

_“Consider this: perhaps I want to help you to redeem myself, to make up for all the hurt I’ve caused.” He’d meant the statement to come off as flippant, but there was a little too much truth to it for that. The girl eyed him suspiciously but seemed mollified._

_“Why’d you even want redemption?” The question came from a teenage boy who was all limbs, sprawling awkwardly in his chair. “What’s your story?”_

_“My story?”_

_“Yeah, why go on some redemption quest at all? Did you just have a moment of clarity where it just hit you what an asshole you are? Like you woke up one morning and thought, “woah, I’m a genuinely shitty person”? Or did you think you were doing good all this time, but, “wait, why are my hands all covered in blood again, fuck this isn’t what heroes do”? I don’t know, just seems like you would have more fun in life if you simply continued to be bad.”_

_There was a loud “ahem” from Mr All-American. “How about you cool it with the language?”_

_“OK,_ grandpa _” The boy sassed back, rolling his eyes at the old-fashioned attitude._

_“I think what The Author is trying to say,” the boy muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “everyone’s an author”, “is that this seems like a sudden change of heart, why should we believe you?” This was coming from a pixie-like blonde with a bright green mask who despite her harsh words was giving him an eye fucking. Once upon a time he might have returned it, she maybe wasn’t his usual type, but she was hot. Now, though, there was Emma. And The Saviour. He subtly glanced in her direction and noted with pleasure that she seemed to be shooting death glares at the girl. Interesting._

_He then realised that everyone was silent, clearly waiting for him to speak. He sighed, not sure he really wished to talk about this publicly, and certainly not in front of The Saviour. He wasn’t ready now, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be._

_“My reasons are my own.”_

_“Not good enough.” said the boy he now knew to be called The Author._

_He felt himself transported into another room that was near pitch black. He was strapped to a chair, could feel bruises all over his body and blood trickling down his forehead. He felt like he’d been tortured for days. He couldn’t see or hear any danger, but the hairs on the back of his neck prickled like they sensed something nearby._

_He felt as much as heard the strange high-pitched giggle of The Dark One. The sound almost stopped his heart, he couldn’t believe the Nevengers, the “Good Guys”, would send him to be tortured. This had to be a test, right?_

_“Tut tut dearie, you can’t have thought it would be that easy to turn hero.”_

_He clenched his jaw but said nothing._

_“So brave, Lieutenant, but it really is pointless, there’s nothing you could ever say to make them accept you.” He felt a hot breath on the side of his neck, he shuddered in response._

_“There’s no good in you. They all see it. They know you deserve death, such a shame that doesn’t seem an option for you, I hear you have people on the other side you’re dying to see again.” The Dark One giggled at his own bad joke. “But then, we both know you wouldn’t be joining Liam and Milah in a better place anyway, so perhaps it’s for the best, Hook.”_

_It was everything his inner demons whispered to him on his worst days, and yet somehow, coming from The Dark One it was easier for him to dismiss the words. He had no time for The Dark One’s tricks._

_“That’s not true.”_

_“Oh, but I think you’ll find it is.”_

_“They knew I loved them, that I was a good man.”_

_“The dead don’t care how good you were, Hook, and the living see your heart for what it is: black like coal.” He snarled at the implication, his heart felt so light since he’d realised he was in love with Emma earlier that day. What he felt was true, he knew it._

_“My heart is not black.” There was another giggle._

_“Yes it is.” The Dark One was infuriating with his childish arguments, he knew he shouldn’t give into him, but he could not hold back._

_“You cannot love with a blackened heart and I’m in love with an angel. I may never be good enough for her, but I will die trying. Or I would, if I could.”_

_Instantly he was back in Nevengers HQ. Or maybe he had never left. He looked around the room wildly, expecting The Dark One to jump out at any moment. As he did, he caught sight of the faces of the heroes, all of whom were staring at him. All but The Saviour whose eyes were cast down to the ground. She had a little pout on her face, like she was sulking, or perhaps that she’d heard something she didn’t want to._

_“So you’re doing it for love, huh?” The kid looked impressed, nodding and smiling at him._

_“What the bloody hell is going on?”_

_“It’s one of my powers, I can make people believe.” Killian was astounded by this statement._

_“Believe what?”_

_“Anything I want.”_

_“So you thought you’d make me believe I’d been tortured? Are you related to Peter bloody Pan? Those kind of tricks are straight out of that demon’s playbook!” He looked around incredulously, happy to see that they all looked a little ashamed. “I thought you were the bloody heroes! It’s bad form to mess with a man’s head like that.”_

_“Hey, I didn’t create any torture scenario! All I did was make you believe that you were talking to someone who could make you reveal the truth.”_

_“I fail to see how that’s better.” The boy shrugged and slumped down, whispering out a “sorry”, as he did._

_“Was that really necessary?” The Saviour rescued him from this uncomfortable conversation with a scowl at her fellow heroes. “A little faith in my abilities would be nice.”_

_Despite his deep reservations about what had just happened and why he was even there, Killian disliked seeing The Saviour unhappy. He wanted to lessen her distress, to reassure her he was ok, so he started talking._

_“Well, if no one else intends to use jedi mind tricks on me, I’d say some introductions were in order. I’m Hook, former villain and I’m immortal. Or perhaps invulnerable? I'm a little fuzzy on the details. Clearly I can't regrow body parts,” he waggled his hook in the air, “but I'm a survivor. I’m also trained in a number of fighting disciplines and my hook has been enhanced with alien technology. I'll keep the full details of all its capabilities to myself though, got to keep the mystery alive somehow.” He winked at The Saviour, who gave him an exasperated look in reply although she seemed to be hiding a smile. He looked around the table with a bright, faux-innocent smile on his face. “Now, why don’t we go around the table and all say your name and your power?”_

_“Seriously? Ice breakers?” The Saviour spoke with an air of incredulity, but she had a little smile on her face all the same._

_The short-haired brunette was the first to speak, “I’m Snow White, I can shoot an arrow through the wing of a wasp in flight -”_

_“Is that an essential skill?” He whispered under his breath to The Saviour. She rolled her eyes, but looked like she was suppressing a grin._

_“- And I can talk to birds.”_

_“Excellent, got any tips for making a good nest?” There was a muffled snort from The Saviour, right then he decided that he needed to make her laugh as often as possible. He looked back at Snow White innocently, only to meet the tail-end of her glare._

_“I’m Prince Charming,” Mr All-American spoke up, “I am an elite soldier. I was enhanced with biotechnology that helps me heal faster, work harder and keep going longer than a regular human. I can duplicate myself in a fight.”_ Oh God, two of him _, that’s all Killian needed, “And I have a sword that can cut through anything. Including immortal ‘former’ villains who hurt the people I care about.” The man was fixing Killian with a pointed stare, which seemed to carry a message of “you touch The Saviour, you die.” Killian shifted uncomfortably, who did Charming think he was, her father?_

_“Well the name suits you at least, who’s next?” Killian said smiling as if he didn’t feel the full weight of Prince Charming’s hatred._

_“I’m The Librarian, and I’m the money.” The girl he’d tried to kill spoke up._

_“The money?”_

_“How do you think we afford this place? It’s all thanks to her.” The Author jumped in._

_“No actual powers, love?” The Saviour kicked his shins, when he looked over to her, she shook her head almost imperceptibly. “Right, the money. Well, that’s always useful.”_

_The Author scrambled up in his chair, eager for his turn to speak. “I’m The Author, you know I can make people believe,” he had the decency to look a little awkward as he said that, “but I also can manipulate the written word. So I can create perfect fake IDs -” “I’m going to pretend I did not hear that.” Prince Charming interjected. Was he always this self-righteous? “- and I can hack anything you want in like, a second. Plus, I have this really cool pen, and when I write with it, the words turn into what I’ve written. As long as the words are like an object. And except when it’s really cool stuff like ‘gold’, for some reason. But if I write gun in the air, the word turns into an actual gun that I can actually use. Pretty neat, huh?”_

_“Well, the pen is mightier than the sword.” Killian said smiling. He found himself warming to the lad despite their earlier misstep. The young teenager was just so excited and enthusiastic it was hard not to feel the same._

_He looked to the pixie to hear what she had to say._

_“I’m Tinkerbell,”_ so, fairy then _, he corrected himself, “I make wings out of sound that allow me to fly.”_

_“Wings out of sound?”_

_“I can harness sound waves, to create wings that allow me to fly. They sound a little like tinkling bells, hence the name. I also can use my voice to manipulate people.”_

_“So you’re a bloody siren?” He was a little startled by how, well, sadistic a lot of these superpowers seemed to be._

_“If that’s what you want me to be.” There was a small smile on her face and seduction in her eyes. He dropped his own to the floor, uninterested in taking her up on her offer._

_“I’m The Saviour and I have magic.” She jumped in quickly. He was a little startled to hear her say anything, he did know her already, after all. When he saw her staring down Tinkerbell he wondered once again if the fairy had ignited a spark of jealousy in her. “At least, I hope I do.”_

_She was staring at the floor, looking utterly dejected. Killian found himself wanting to wrap his arms around her and soothe away all her worries._

_“What do you mean?” Charming cut in, frowning. The Saviour didn't look to be in a sharing mood so Killian spoke up on her behalf._

_“Seems our mutual enemy, Mr Gold, had removed her powers.” He turned to direct his next comments straight to her. “I’m sure it was but a temporary glitch. What you did in that alley was bloody brilliant, I fail to see how you could've done that without your magic.” Killian could see her squirming slightly, albeit with a shy smile on her face. “You can always try your magic out on me -”_

_“Please do,” Prince Charming stopped him from pulling out an innuendo, “Maybe you can shut him up. It clearly would take some form of higher power.”_

_Killian ignored the disappointed dad stare coming his way, focussing all his attention on The Saviour. She smiled weakly at him, apparently grateful for the support. The sight filled him with pride. Perhaps he could make this hero thing work after all._

_“Oh, honey” Snow White’s face had crumpled up with maternal concern, she opened her mouth as if to speak again when The Saviour cut her off “I don’t want to talk about it. We can deal with that later.”_

_He could tell that Snow White wasn’t going to let it drop, so he spoke up._

_“Excellent, now that we’re all friends, care to uncuff me and perhaps we can discuss how we’re going to destroy The Dark One?”_

David clapped him on the back as he moved further into the room. He always knew he’d win him over eventually.

So all of the Nevengers were there, all except -

“How’s it going, TS?” he turned when he heard the voice - _Her_ voice - grinning as he saw The Saviour. She was grinning right back and had moved as if to hug him, before pulling back and awkwardly punching him on the arm instead.

Maybe he should feel hurt that she chose not to embrace him, but knowing her as well as he did, he just appreciated that the thought was there.

She was the only one of the Nevengers, besides himself, to never reveal their true identity to the group. They were both too cautious, too guarded and too unsure.

He trusted them all with his life - and had done, many times - but in a world of monsters, magic and science experiments gone wrong he was too scared to let anyone see the real him. He didn’t trust anybody with Emma Swan’s life - not even himself. He’d lost too many people already. He couldn’t bear it if she joined their ranks. And while she never said it, he was sure that The Saviour kept the mask on to protect someone too.

“Nice of you to join us, Saviour,” he drawled, winking as he said it.

“Has anyone ever told you that you can’t wink for shit?” There was a teasing sparkle in her eyes as she spoke.

“I’ll have you know that many a lass has been brought to her knees by a wink from me.” He winked again for good measure. She opened her mouth, no doubt to say something sarcastic in return, but was interrupted by David.

“If you guys are done flirting, can we get on with it?” David looked exasperated, Killian always got the sense that he didn’t approve of their relationship, though he never could tell why. It’s not like there was anything to disapprove of, they’d never gone further than flirty banter. And probably never would.

_More’s the pity._

“Ever the spoil sport, Dave.”

“We have important matters to discuss, Hook.” He countered as they all took to their seats. Dave had never jumped on the “Survivor” bandwagon, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Killian. He was about to retort, when The Saviour silenced him with a look.

“Right, well, we know it’s been a long time since Hook and The Saviour retrieved the files on The Compass Project and I imagine some of you have been getting impatient at our lack of progress.” Belle looked at Killian meaningfully, he smiled innocently in return. “So, I’m pleased to say we’ve had a breakthrough. We know that part of the project is a tool to remove powers. We’ve been working on a device to counter its effects and restore lost powers-”

“And today we ran our first successful test! It was soo cool, we-” Henry butt in, too excited to hold his words in. Belle raised an eyebrow at him as if to scold him for interrupting, but her smile gave away that she wasn’t mad in the slightest. “It was cool.” Henry finished solemnly, nodding at Killian. “I’m sure it was, lad, now shall we let the lady speak?”

“As Henry said, we have a device that seems to be able to counteract the effects of Gold’s tool. That is assuming that they haven’t fundamentally altered the design, we know that its effect was only temporary on The Saviour so I’m sure they’ll have been working on a way to make the change permanent.”

“But this is still wonderful news, Belle, we all know how hard you’ve been working on this and now this will help us to defeat Gold.” Trust Snow to always see the best in things, he was not feeling so hopeful.

“Not that I’m saying that’s not great, but are we any closer to figuring out what the other weapon from the files does?” Tina asked. Belle and Henry shared an uncomfortable look, then both looked down at their feet.

“No.” He knew he should have been prepared for that, but it was still a blow. He ran a hand through his hair, clenching his jaw in frustration.

“Bloody hell. Do you mean to tell me after all this time we’re still no closer to understanding his plans?”

“Hook, that’s not entirely fair -” Snow began.

“Save your hope speeches, Snow, I know you mean well, but -” he faltered, unsure of how to continue with the rage seething inside him. Whatever Gold was planning, he was sure it wasn’t good. What’s more, he was sure the people he loved would get hurt. Again. He slammed his fist onto the table to avoid following his thoughts down that dark path.

“I have a suggestion.” Everyone turned to look at Tina. “We need fresh information if we’re going to figure this out. Maybe we can get a man on the inside? We do know someone who used to be part of that world after all.” She nodded to him as she spoke. He felt the life drain out of him, surely she knew he had left that life behind?

“No.” The Savior responded instantly and definitively. He looked at her curiously, but she wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Perhaps there’s another way,” Snow mused, turning to him thoughtfully. “Could you persuade anyone to switch sides do you think? You managed it with Ursula.”

Now that was a plan he could handle. He thought through the villains he knew, The Queen of Hearts, too power hungry, Pan, too tricksy, Cruella, too unhinged. The Evil Queen though? He might stand a chance with her. She certainly had always seemed to appreciate his good form, as it were. He could certainly use that to his advantage.

Emma’s face sprang into his mind and The Saviour was sat so close to him he could practically feel her. His romantic life was already a complete disaster, could he really suggest seducing a villain - and Snow’s arch enemy at that - to further their cause?

“Aye, there’s one that I might be able to convince. I think she might have fancied me a bit and would love to take me out for some libations.” He deliberately did not look at The Saviour, focussing on putting all his flirtatious swagger into his words and ignoring the cries of his heart.

“Sounds promising, who is that?” he grimaced, of course Dave would get straight to it.

“Why the Evil Queen of course.” Snow gasped a little and David frowned deeply. “I am aware of your personal history, but you need never see her, and I believe she is our best chance. I would never suggest it otherwise.”

“You’re right.” David’s eyes flew wide open, he looked at Snow, dumbstruck. “In spite all of the terrible things she’s done, I know there’s good in her. This could work.” David’s mouth opened as if he might speak, but he stayed quiet, looking incredulously from him to Snow and back again. Killian waited a moment for a protest that never came.

“Lovely, now if that’s all settled, it sounds like I have a date to plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading this! Come join me on tumblr @katie-dub where I might share some sneak peaks and I'm always happy to chat :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on The Masks We Wear…
> 
> Emma Swan AKA The Saviour and Killian Jones AKA Hook AKA The Survivor are in love. They just don’t know it yet. And while they’re busy working with their fellow Nevengers to bring down The Dark One, they don’t have the time to find out. Their mission has reached a dead end and they desperately need intel if they’re going to succeed. So The Survivor is out to seduce The Evil Queen and persuade her to turn double agent…
> 
> “Hook may love The Saviour, but Killian Jones was in love with Emma Swan.”
> 
> “It was certainly obvious that Emma wanted him, but only in a mask, only while wearing his hook.”
> 
> “You cannot love with a blackened heart and I’m in love with an angel. I may never be good enough for her, but I will die trying. Or I would, if I could.”
> 
> “Seems our mutual enemy, Mr. Gold, had removed The Saviour’s powers.” He turned to direct his next comments straight to her. “I’m sure it was but a temporary glitch. What you did in that alley was bloody brilliant, I fail to see how you could’ve done that without your magic.”
> 
> “Lovely, now if that’s all settled, it sounds like I have a date to plan.”

_“So, are you gonna tell me how you really feel about The Survivor's latest mission?” Emma was playing on the Xbox with Henry when he asked the apparently harmless question. She knew better than that. He was digging and she had nothing to say. She had placed her feelings about the situation in a sealed box, in a locked safe, on a really high shelf marked “I'll deal with this never”._

_“Don't know what to tell you, kid. He's got a job to do so he's doing it.”_

_“Uh-huh.” She stopped playing and gaped at him, just about to retort when he continued. “Head in the game or log off, Saviour. I'm already going out on a limb letting a level 5 wizard play with me.”_

_“We can't all be level 23 material.”_

_“True. But you are avoiding the question. The Survivor's going on a date: thoughts, feelings, opinions? Anything?”_

_“With_ The Evil Queen _? I say good luck to him.”_

_“Really? Because you've been throwing fireballs at that corpse for five minutes now. He's dead; you can move on.” He assured her. She blushed a little and moved her character away from the body on screen. “Seems like you've got some rage to deal with, Saviour.”_

_“I was just being thorough.” She shrugged._

_“Uh-huh,” his noncommittal responses were getting to her. She felt her blood boil, she needed to set him straight._

_“Look, The Survivor and I are_ not _together. What he does in his spare time is his business.”_

_Henry paused the game and took the controller from her hands. She protested weakly, before huffing and crossing her arms sulkily._

_“You could be you know.”_

_“What?” She played dumb sullenly._

_“Together. Surely you've seen the way he looks at you? It’s not all yearning looks, doey eyes and innuendos for him. He wants to be with you. He wants you to be his home.” She felt her magic beginning to stir, with a deep breath, she forced it down. If she was being honest, she knew exactly what Henry meant, but then she was never great at that. She shrugged._

_“He's with someone. He joined our cause for an ‘angel’ remember?” Henry thought hard._

_“Ever consider that maybe_ you're _his angel?” She laughed, “well, you could be! I've never heard him say a word about any other woman!” A little spark of hope flared up within her, one she had to ignore in the interests of self-preservation. And yet, The Survivor treated Henry like a brother, surely if there were someone else, Henry would know?_

_“He's also never shared his real name, the man values his privacy. As do I.” She stared him down. She understood why The Survivor had never revealed his secret identity. Neither had she, after all, and she was pretty sure he'd done it for the same reasons as her. The mask, the hero moniker, all of it was a way to keep the world at arm's length; to avoid getting hurt._

And to ensure the safety of his ‘angel’ _, she thought a little bitterly, conveniently ignoring her own desire to protect her own angel, Killian._

_“But -” Henry was undeterred._

_“We'd only just met that night.” She said flatly, unwilling to follow Henry down this path. He opened his mouth to interrupt, “And don't say anything about love at first sight right now - I know you're The Author, but this isn't a fairytale, this is real life.”_

_“It could be a fairytale, if you would just believe in love.” She groaned, and he grinned, “I could help you with that, you know.”_

_“That's not the way these things work. I can't take a chance that I'm wrong about him.”_

_“Why not?” By now, she was truly fed up, and the pain that she tried so hard to ignore was rearing its head._

_“Because everyone I've ever been with is dead! The Huntsman had his heart ripped out right in front of me by The Queen of Hearts. My ex, Neal, drank a potion made by Dr. Jekyll and I had to kill him myself before his worst self destroyed everyone. Even Walsh is gone.” She stopped, unwilling to say more about that catastrophe. “I'm cursed.”_

_“Because everyone you date dies? Well, wouldn't The Survivor be the perfect guy for you, then? Maybe you hadn't noticed, but he's a little hard to kill. It's kind of his thing.”_

_She didn't have an answer to that. Henry looked more than a little smug._

_“When did you get so smart, kid?”_

_“I've always been this smart, it's why you love me.” With that, Henry picked up his controller and resumed the game. “Now let's go kill this Diabolo guy.”_

Emma was flustered. No, annoyed. No, heartsick? No. None of those. She was fine. Totally, completely, 100% fine. She hadn’t spent the better half of last week stewing over Henry’s words and coming to the conclusion that maybe he was right. Maybe The Survivor really was the perfect guy for her. She definitely hadn’t acted like a total dick to Killian all week for no reason  because she couldn’t handle the anxious energy that was swirling inside her.

_Oh God, Killian, how would he ever forgive her?_ She could see it now; all she had to do was explain to him that her superhero ally was off to seduce The Evil Queen and she was really worried about him. It wouldn’t be the most awkward conversation ever, because, oh yeah, did I forget to mention that I’m the superhero you’ve got a crush on?

That wasn’t even all that was wrong. She was a little concerned for The Survivor's safety. Okay, “little” was an understatement. It was a very dangerous mission, going undercover, and if they were going to drink alcohol, he would be especially vulnerable to the Evil Queen's womanly wiles, no, _sadistic powers_ , that was it.

She was worried that the Evil Queen would have her wicked way with him - in a torture sense. 

Who knows what she might do? Strip him bare and abuse his beautiful body. _Stop it._

It was fair to say she wasn't handling the thought of The Survivor taking the Evil Queen out on a date all that well. No matter that she knew it was to help their cause, that she didn't have claim on him. There was still an angry little voice inside her, hissing _that bitch better keep her hands off him_.

She was loath to admit it, but since the first day they'd met, she'd thought of The Survivor as hers. It was the day The Dark One had stolen her powers and she'd thought her life was over. Then he showed up and turned his life around because of her - maybe even for her - and he'd been there when her powers were restored. It had to mean something, right? It couldn’t be just a coincidence.

_She was standing alone, lost in thought when Hook entered the room._

_“Look, no handcuffs, love!” He wiggled his hand and hook in the air, “I think I won over your friends. But then,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “I tend to have that effect on people.”_

_“I guess” she muttered distractedly. He stepped closer to her, his face full of concern and for one terrible moment she thought he was going to ask her to share her feelings or some such nonsense. That was usually Snow White’s trick. She always hated it._

_“It’s ok, love, you can tell me anything.”_ Oh God _, she was seriously regretting her choice to trust him. She looked up, ready to snipe at him, but she stopped when she saw a mischievous twinkle in his eye that belied his serious expression. “I know how much you loved me in handcuffs and if you need some time to mourn the loss, you go ahead. If it helps, I could let you tie me up again?”_

_She grinned despite herself, but rolled her eyes. Suddenly she realised he was just inches away from her. Close enough to kiss if she just tilted her head and leaned in just a little bit more … She shoved him back; he chuckled in response._

_She couldn’t handle her confusing feelings for Hook right now. Or ever._

_Before tonight he’d been just another villain that she needed to take down. But then she’d met him and she wasn’t sure she’d ever fully recover. The way he’d nuzzled against her and promised to take care of her “every need” had turned her into some kind of swooning romantic heroine. She’d been vaguely disgusted at her body’s betrayal, but that wasn’t what really fucked her up. No, that would be his total honesty and the way he seemed to somehow just know her. The only other person to ever really get her was Killian, and she was already halfway to handing him her heart on a platter. She didn’t need another man in her life to disappoint. Or to give the other half of her heart to._

_And yet, when Henry had forced Hook to confess to joining their cause for love, she couldn’t help but feel crushed._

_“If you don’t mind my asking, love, what is this mysterious other power of yours?” Startled, she had nearly forgotten Hook was still in the room._

_“Huh?”_

_He laughed at her again; she tried not to be annoyed at his vaguely smug attitude._

_“You seemed vexed that the heroes wouldn’t accept me based on your deductions alone. You mentioned your abilities, so what is this mysterious ability?”_

_“Oh, that. I, er, well I’ve always had the ability to know when people are lying to me. Before the lightning storm that gave me y’know…” she waved her hands around vaguely in a sign that was meant to convey “magic”. Sometimes it just felt too ridiculous to say out loud. Hook nodded sagely, in complete understanding. “After that, I became like a human lie detector or something, but even if I’ve lost the actual superpowers, I’ve still got that.”_

_She stopped before she did something really dumb like say how she was worried that being The Saviour was all she was good for. And without that, she was nothing._

_“Hey, hey,” he was stroking her shoulder, why did that feel so… natural? She didn’t like it when people touched her normally. Well,_ except Killian _._

_She was frowning slightly at his hand, and he gently moved it away. She tried not to scowl even more, she missed the warmth of his touch, how was he doing this to her so quickly? She looked up at him, wondering if he felt this too. He was grinning at her wickedly._

_“Well, lass, judging from the way you handled the Queen of Hearts, I'd say your powers have returned. Even if that turns out to not be the case, you’ll still be capable of turning mere mortals into gibbering wrecks with just your smile. That’s got to be some form of magic.”_

_She couldn’t help but laugh a little at this. Deep down, she wondered how he already knew her well enough to back off before the conversation got too heavy._

_“So that explains all of our conversations.” He clutched at his heart melodramatically._

_“You wound me, love, this is me at my most dashing.” He moved in for the kill, turning his seductive grin on her. Oh God, was she fucked. “You forget, I’m no mortal.”_

_“I guess not.” He was once again invading her personal space, challenging her to… What? Kiss him? Snuggle? Spill all her secrets? She couldn’t understand how one person could make her feel simultaneously completely off balance and totally safe._

_She sighed, what she needed was someone to confide in. Maybe ‘confidant’ wasn’t quite the role Hook wanted in her life, but they did seem to understand each other, perhaps he could be that for her, for the time being?_

_“If I’m not The Saviour, who am I?” She whispered it, not sure if she was really ready for someone to hear this._

_“Pardon, love?”_

_She looked up at him, gone was the cocky grin and instead he was all sincerity. It gave her a little courage, although not quite enough to meet his eye as she once again gave her secret fears a voice._

_“If I’m not The Saviour, who am I?”_

_“A feisty lass who cares too much and who sees the best in even the worst of people. Just look at the two of us! Most people would say I deserve to be left in a brig for all eternity for the things I've done. But you? You chose to help me make amends, you helped me see that I could at least try and be good.”_

_She squirms a little, uncomfortable hearing anyone speaking about herself like this._

_“Forgive me for speaking plainly, but it seems to me that you’ve had a hard life, you’ve got the look of an orphan. A lost girl of sorts. It’s admirable that you wish to ensure that no one else should suffer as you have, but you aren’t responsible for everyone else’s happy endings. Why not let yourself be happy?”_

_“I am happy.” She protests, “and who says I’ve had a hard life?”_

_He fixed her with an almost disappointed look. She has the uncomfortable sense that he’s seeing straight into her soul. She wonders how many of her secrets are on display for him. (She wonders how many other he could easily persuade her to share)._

_“Let’s just say, I recognise a kindred spirit.” Once again, she’s startled by the way this villain, this man, is revealing himself to her, seemingly all to help her._

_“Yeah?”_

_“Aye.” He’s the one who can’t look her in the eye now. “I imagine I know Gold better than you do,” He changes the subject quickly, “and he is more crocodile than man. Just because he told you that your powers are gone, doesn’t mean you should believe it.”_

_She huffs, and shrugs her shoulders, irritated, “but stopping the Queen of Hearts is the only magic I've been able to do since I saw him and he used his thingy on me.” Hook’s eyes widened in delight at her unintentional innuendo. “I didn’t mean it like that!” She smacked his arm, and was blushing, “just: it’s gone. I can feel it.”_

_“Would that be so bad? Do you honestly like this life, never getting a break, always too busy dealing with the latest crisis? Surely, there’s someone in your civilian life that you love. Someone who you want to spend your life with.” Was he trying to find out if she was single? She dismissed the thought immediately, he had become a hero for love, after all. “If your powers are indeed lost to you, that’s what you could be: happy with your love.”_

_Killian fills her mind at this suggestion. She feels love rippling along her skin and warmth running through her veins. Just the picture of him in her mind’s eye has her smiling. She wants so desperately to be with him, it would be so easy to just fall into a life with him by her side, but more than that, she wants him safe._

_“Would you look at that, love,” Hook nods down at her hands, where little sparks are leaving her fingertips. “Absolute proof that your magic has returned.”_

She was only in the bar because she was worried about him. She knew she didn't own him, she just wanted to have his back. As he'd had hers right from day one. There wasn't any kind of childish jealousy at play here.

Still, she'd gone to Supers!, a bar beloved by superheroes and villains alike and the location for The Survivor's “date”, dressed in her civvies. Her long, blond hair was down as she wore it at work and her thick-rimmed glasses were perched on her nose. She wasn't hiding exactly, she was just being discreet, scoping out the situation on the DL. She'd be there if he needed her and if he didn't, that was 100% cool, too.

Her eyes roamed the room, seeking out The Survivor's telltale leather jacket. She spotted The Hood knocking back a beer, Ruby gyrating on the dance floor and Ursula propping up the bar, but not him. _What time did he say he would be arriving again?_

But then -

There he was.

_Fuck_.

The man is devastatingly handsome, the blue mask he wears makes the colour of his eyes pop. Not for the first time, she wondered just how good he'd look without half his face hidden. She wasn't sure her ovaries would be able to cope. But all of this was her standard “I want to jump the bones of my fellow superhero and constant ally” response. Having him as her closest confidant - alongside Killian - made her feelings very... complicated. What really hurt was the way he was leaning into the Evil Queen, their legs were tangled together and he only had eyes for her.

_Fuckity fuck._

If she was going to survive staying here - and the sight before her was one she could maybe handle for five more minutes, max - she'd need alcohol. Preferably lots of it, although she did need to stay sober enough to help if needed. That was the only reason she came here, after all.

Tearing her eyes away from the pair, she surreptitiously moved towards the bar and ordered a beer.

Slinking away, drink in hand, she found a quiet table with a perfect view of her … _her_ Survivor. He had his back to her, lest he spot her lurking. _So I don't have to see him eye fucking the queen._ This meant she had an excellent view of the Evil Queen's outlandish get up.

She was wearing a skin tight purple leather catsuit which had an ostentatious popped collar that was covered with what Emma was 95% certain were blood diamonds. Her boots were shiny, had killer heels and went all the way up to her thighs. Her mask was a lacy, bejewelled thing more suited for a masquerade than an actual disguise. 

Emma wasn’t one to judge a woman for her clothing, but this display of wealth made her want to vomit. It was definitely that that bothered her, not the villain's current position ensconced with her close friend and _occasional_ fantasy lover.

And Emma was totally cool with the way his hands were stroking her thighs, right above where those fucking boots ended. It’s not like she’d ever imagined his hands doing just that to her.

She was starting to think coming here was a really stupid idea, when her view of the pair was suddenly blocked. Emma strained to look around the woman in her slinky outfit and fur cape (seriously? Was that practical?) but realised that the fur fanatic was heading straight for her.

Emma looked up to see Cruella DeVil leaning into her personal space. “Drinking alone isn’t good for the soul, darling, and neither is drinking… whatever this is.” She picked up Emma’s beer and waved it under her nose taking an exaggerated sniff and pulling a face. “Come, have some gin with me and my pet.”

Cruella gestured towards a handsome man wearing a collar. He looked just like David. Oh God, he wasn't David, right?!

“He has the look of that Prince Charming, doesn't he? Although my James is such a naughty boy, not like that” she wrinkled her nose “uptight hero, he's fun. Although I wouldn't say no to having a second James to play with. A good ol’ Cruella sandwich. Maybe you could play with us too, darling.” Cruella leaned in and whispered in her ear, “mummy can share her toys.”

Stomach churning, Emma decided that the best - and the only - course of action was escape. She had to get the hell out of this place so she could start the slow process of scouring off the mental images Cruella had placed in her brain. Not to mention the actual memories of certain persons getting their flirt on.

“Sorry, I have to go.” She leapt up and pushed passed Cruella, hearing her cruel, cackling laugh echoing after her.

In her haste to leave she didn’t notice that she was due to head right past The Survivor and the Evil Queen. Someone knocked into her just as she reached their table, she stumbled over her own feet and nearly fell to the floor.

A strong arm had reached out to break her fall. Her magic instantly responded to his touch; she could actually feel the electricity sparking through her. _Fuck fuck fuck!!!_ She snatched her arm back, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor and using her long hair as a shield against his stupid, beautiful face.

“Are you alright, lass?” His voice was like honey, instantly soothing her. She couldn’t just ignore him. She looked up and into his eyes. 

It was a mistake. 

He looked so worried about her, just a random stranger, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place.

Whatever it was, it was working for her. She wanted to grab him and kiss him and brand him as hers in front of everyone. Hell, she would have happily taken him right there. Not because she was an exhibitionist or anything, just that it was so hard to care about propriety when she wanted him that badly. She was worried she was going to start actually glowing with the force of her magic reaching out to him.

“Yeah, fine” it came out breathy and fuckstruck, she cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”

And with that, she ran.

***

The day was not going well for Killian. 

He had somehow lost The Wandsworth Report, and now he was majorly in the shit. He had actually briefly wondered if he could ask Henry to hack their systems and magically recreate it. The sad thing was, he was sure the lad would help, but then there would be no way to keep his secret identity a secret anymore. 

He had a rendezvous lined up with The Evil Queen for later. While it may have been his idea to target her in this way, he didn’t feel quite right about it all. 

And he had spilled coffee down himself on the way into work. Not only did the immediate sting of the scalding hot liquid cause some serious pain to his physical person, but also he firmly believed that clothes made the man. And this man was currently a mess.

_It’s at least an accurate statement of affairs_ , he mused.

He wouldn’t have spilled the damn coffee in the first place if he hadn’t been rushing to try to catch Emma. In a scene painfully reminiscent of their first meeting, he had tripped up the steps at the sight of her. 

Only this time she was gone without any of their delightful banter. No dry _“I always wondered what it’d be like to have men fall at my feet”_ from her. No answering _“I wasn’t falling at your feet, I fell from heaven love. I expect it’s hard to tell what with my devilishly handsome appearance, but it’s the truth. Don’t worry, you can worship me later.”_

He didn’t like to admit that a day that went by without some word from her was a very bad day indeed. But it was true. And this would be the fourth very bad day in a row.

There was something troubling her. He just couldn’t figure out what it could be. He hoped to God it wasn’t something that he’d done, but it was hard to think otherwise when she seemed to be going to great lengths to avoid him.

He had tried to catch her several times over the course of the day. All he ever saw was a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye. 

He even went so far as to go and collect a bear claw and hot chocolate with cinnamon for her at lunch. He left it on her desk with a goofy drawing of a swan. He kept peeking to see if she’d taken it, but then he overheard John from accounting saying that Emma had given him the treats because she “wasn’t feeling well”.

And so it was that by the time he left for the evening he was feeling utterly dejected and in no mood to swagger and seduce.

But swagger and seduce he must.

He clicked his hook into place and slipped on his mask and old, bravado attitude. Hook was out to meet a lady, a queen no less, he had to show her a good time.

He had chosen Belle's bar, Supers! as it was the one place that a hero and a villain could hook up in public without anyone passing comment. 

It was modelled after the speakeasys of old, a glamorous place where those with superpowers - and their groupies - gathered. There was an unofficial truce in place at the bar - and while he suspected free flowing spirits helped secure that - he knew it was largely due to Belle's influence. 

She may have left day to day management to Jefferson, but it was at her insistence that fighting of any kind was not to be tolerated.

_“Why does a librarian own a bar, if you don't mind my asking?”_

_“I have money I don't want, let alone need; the least I can do is use it to do some good.”_

_“Well, rum does always put me in an excellent mood, I must say.” She shoved him playfully, he laughed, “Not that I'm complaining, it's just an unusual choice.”_

_“You know I pay for all of this too, right?” she gestured around HQ.  “Supers! is neutral territory, a safe haven for the superpowered, how many other places do you see heroes and villains side by side? It's not much,” she shrugged, “but it's something.”_

_“Aye, love, it's a marvellous way to bring people together. So how did you come by this money? I rarely find that people think of too much money as a burden.” She frowned at that, looking a little pained and Killian felt bad for ever mentioning it._

_“I was in love once, with a man who thought he could buy my love instead of earning it.” He scowled, thinking of Gold and the way he had treated Milah; as nothing more than an accessory for his perfect lifestyle._

_“The rich and powerful often think that way.”_

_“The sad thing is, he didn't need to buy my heart, I had already given it to him freely. But when I realised he would never be the man he could be, he imprisoned me.” She sobbed a little, “I'm sorry, Hook, I can't talk about this right now, OK?”_

_He nodded his assent, but reached out to her and squeezed her arm._

_“He was a bloody fool and if you ever wish to talk about it, I'm here.” She smiled at him sadly._

_“Thank you. That - that means a lot.”_

The Evil Queen was sitting at a table, looking bored by her surroundings when he finally spotted her. He sashayed his way over to her, bowing low when he reached her.

“Your majesty.” As he straightened up he saw her delighted grin. She really was stunning. Her long brunette curls were swept over one shoulder, showing off the elegant line of her neck. She wore a mask that suggested kinky fun. Her outfit was designed to show off her lithe form. 

Once upon a time, she would have been exactly his type, now though he seemed to prefer blondes.

But still, he was a man, and a single man at that. He could have some fun tonight, right?

“Might I buy a drink for the fairest of them all?” She giggled coquettishly.

“Indeed” she grinned and leaned forward to purr in his ear, “surprise me.”

He leered at her in return and moved to the bar, letting out a deep sigh as he went. He noticed The Hood leaning by the bar sending dark looks his way.

“You alright, mate?” He threw in the hero’s direction while leaning forward to catch the bartender’s eye. He ordered a bottle of champagne - not his usual drink of choice, but he was romancing a queen after all - then looked over at The Hood expectantly.

The man seemed to be lost in a world of his own, no longer scowling at Hook. If anything, he seemed to be gazing longingly at The Evil Queen.

_Interesting._

Perhaps The Evil Queen could be turned without any need to be seduced. _Or not by him anyway._ From what Killian knew of her tale, she - much like him - had gone down a dark path for revenge. If love could redeem him, perhaps it would do the same for her. Perhaps she’d already taken that first step.

Until he was sure though, he was going to stick to plan A.

He paid for their drinks and took a moment to ready himself to flirt. It had once come to him as easily as breathing. Now, though, he had to try a little harder - unless it was The Saviour or Emma, of course.

He sauntered back to their table, followed by a waitress carrying their drinks. Once she’d filled both glasses and scurried off, he raised his glass in a toast to the queen, keeping his eyes on her as he drank.

She had mimicked his gesture, but didn’t move to drink.

“So, Hook, I hear you have a proposition for me?”

“Come now, your majesty, why get straight down to business when we could have a little fun first?” He moved closer to her, sliding his knee between hers and placing a hand on her thigh.

“Perhaps I want to take care of business before I take care of you.” She murmured, leaning in a little so he could see straight down her cleavage.

“I prefer to mix business with pleasure.” His tone was low, so she had to lean in further to hear it. His hand was now gently stroking her thigh. She wasn’t paying attention. 

He noticed that her eyes kept flicking to somewhere just over his shoulder. He glanced back, and was unsurprised to see The Hood directly in her eyesight. He pulled back and was ready to comment on the turn in events when she surprised him by speaking herself.

“How did you do it?” Her tone was wistful, her gaze still on The Hood.

“Do what, your majesty?” She turned her attention fully to him then.

“How did the One Handed Wonder manage to persuade the world that you’re a hero now?” He could tell her question was sincere, despite her crass delivery. He felt slightly uncomfortable. He often wondered himself how he’d earned that status. He didn’t feel entirely deserving of it, no matter how many times The Saviour said he was. He pondered for a moment before answering:

“I stopped acting selfishly and started trying to do the right thing.” She looked conflicted at his words.

“You say that like it’s so easy.” He laughed without any humour.

“It’s anything but, your majesty. I am always worried that I will do or say the wrong thing and everyone will see me for the monster I really am. I work every day to earn the forgiveness of those I have wronged, to make amends and be a better man. But I’m afraid that it’ll never quite be enough. That I’ll never truly measure up to those for whom it really is easy.”

She considered his answer for a few moments, before asking earnestly, “So why do you do it?”

“Is it not enough to want to be a better man?” He deflected her question, unable to look her in the eye.

“Hook, please,” she leaned forward, with a desperate plea for help. He sighed. He disliked revealing his true feelings, but he could see she was in genuine need of guidance. This could be what brought a terrible villain to the light side. And if she could earn her redemption, perhaps he could too.

“I did it for love.” He blurted out quickly, “I’m not sure I believe I’ll ever really be worthy of it, but a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.” He smiled awkwardly, and looked around the room. He was momentarily distracted by a flash of golden hair. _Swan?_

“Do you really believe that?” He brought his attention back to The Evil Queen. She was once again gazing at The Hood.

“Aye,” he nodded, “And I believe The Hood would too.” She blushed a little, and snapped her head back to look at him.

“What? You think -? I’m not interested in him.” He smirked at her, amused by her inability to admit out loud what was written all over her face. _But then, you are quite the expert at that yourself,_ he mused. “That man smells of forest! How does that even happen? We live in the city.” He chuckled.

He was about to respond when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a girl about to crash to the ground. He flung his arm out to stop her fall instinctively. 

“Are you alright, lass?” She looked up into his eyes and he momentarily forgot how to breathe.

It was Emma Swan.

She was as stunning as ever, but there was something in her eyes that he’d never seen before. A certain hunger. She looked ready to pounce on him. Possibly even take him right there on the floor. He couldn’t say he’d object.

“Yeah, fine” her voice sounded gruff with arousal, it sent a wave of desire crashing through him. She cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”

She wrenched her arm from his grasp and ran away, leaving him completely bewildered and at a total loss for words.

“You alright there, Captain Guyliner?” The Evil Queen was smirking at him. He shook himself a little, trying to snap out of his Emma-induced stupor.

“Tell you what your majesty, why don’t you do yourself and The Hood a favour and invite him to finish this champagne with you? I’m afraid I have matters to attend to, so I bid you adieu.” 

He noted that she looked both flustered and intrigued by his suggestion. He hoped she took his advice. _I’m sure a bloody good shag will curb her murderous tendencies, if nothing else_.

He waved his hand with a flourish that vaguely resembled a bow before she could say a word. As he turned to leave he heard The Evil Queen calling behind him, “Good luck, Hook! I hope she’s worth it!”

_Of course Emma bloody well is,_ he thought indignantly to himself as he followed her into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Previously on The Masks We Wear**
> 
> _Emma Swan AKA The Saviour and Killian Jones AKA Hook AKA The Survivor are in love. They just don’t know it yet. And while they’re busy working with their fellow Nevengers to bring down The Dark One, they don’t have time to find out. Desperate for intel, The Survivor tried to seduce the Evil Queen to join the heroes, but their date was interrupted by a jealous Emma Swan who then ran off with The Survivor in hot pursuit..._
> 
> “Emma’s magic instantly responded to his touch; she could actually feel the electricity sparking through her ... She was worried she was going to start actually glowing with the force of her magic reaching out to him.”
> 
> “‘Good luck, Hook! I hope she’s worth it!’
> 
>  _Of course Emma bloody well is_ , he thought indignantly to himself as he followed her into the night.”

Emma felt like she was running for her life. It was a little pathetic really, the way she was so desperate to escape a handsome man. Somewhere in the back of her head she wondered if that was a metaphor for her whole attitude to love.

Although there was also the tiny issue that said man had thrown her into such a tizzy there was a very real risk of a magical explosion happening in the middle of a club full of superheroes and supervillains. That would be difficult enough to justify at the best of times, but when she was dressed as Emma Swan it would cause a major fucking incident.

_She had gone out that night for a few drinks to welcome the new guy at work. He was dark and brooding, but funny along with it. She found she didn't dislike his company quite as much as most people she met._

_Not to mention that, ever since she'd been caught up in that lightning storm the previous weekend, she'd been feeling weird and out of sorts. Like, the kind of super weird where only some seriously hard liquor could soothe her. Lights kept sparking off around her suddenly, particularly when she was angry or upset. Her “superpower” of knowing someone was lying to her had been going haywire, leaving her with the urge to scream ‘bullshit!’ at almost everyone she interacted with. Her skin felt itchy and her whole being felt unstable._

_So, she'd tried doing the sociable thing. She shared a glass of rum with the man while he made snide remarks about their colleagues who were using his arrival at the company as an excuse to get wasted. She snorted with laughter and he responded with a disarmingly beautiful smile._

_It was hard to avoid picturing him wearing nothing but that smile._

_That line of thinking was dangerous though, especially for someone with a boyfriend._ Even if she was planning to cut him loose tonight. _She'd always been a little unsure about him, but now her spidey senses screeched ‘liar’ every other time they talked. It was definitely time to get out. The fact that the new boy AKA ‘The Most Beautiful Man In The World’ had started the day after the lightning storm was just a happy coincidence._

_She really had to go before she wound up doing something she'd regret. Like taking The Most Beautiful Man In The World up against a wall in the alley out back or the nearest bathroom stall. There were so many reasons that was a bad idea, number one being Walsh. She left, noticing with a grimace that the office harpies zeroed in on him the second she left his side, ready to get to know the fresh blood quite intimately. Looked like someone was going to get lucky tonight. Meanwhile, she had a breakup to get ready for. Lovely._

_Walsh was waiting for her at her door. She peered at her watch, irritated to see that he was early._

At least it'll be over sooner.

_“Hey darling, I'm so sorry I'm early, I just couldn't wait to see you!”_

_Walsh leaned in to kiss her and she ducked away from his lips._

_“My place is a mess,”_ liar. _“Let's - let's just head up to the roof, OK?” She ignored his hurt expression and turned towards the stairs._

_When they were finally outside, Walsh spoke again._

_“What's this all about Emma?” He gestured to her outfit, she looked down incredulously. They'd gone for drinks straight from the office so she was still wearing her - admittedly tight, but otherwise plain - work pants and a basic button down. There was even a slight fleck of mustard on the shirt, she noted with embarrassment. “Where were you?”_

_“Having drinks with Killian, you know, the new guy at work. And a few colleagues as well. I'm sure I told you about it.” There was a spark of rage in his eyes, although his expression remained neutral._

_“I must have forgotten.”_

_“Yeah, well, that’s not really the issue right now.”_

_“So you’re saying there’s an issue? I don’t understand what’s going on here, Emma.”_

_He looked lost, she sighed at his puppy dog eyes. “It’s just that, since that whole lightning storm last week, I don’t feel like me anymore. I think it would be impossible for you to understand.”_

_“Come on, how do you know that? Lots of people have been feeling off since then, even I -” he broke off suddenly. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, her spidey senses were tingling. They’d been doing that around him a lot lately. “Even I can see that a lot of people were affected, you can talk to me about this.”_

_She closed her eyes in frustration. She was not in the mood for a heart to heart, she just wanted this conversation - hell, this whole relationship - to be over. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves._

_“Walsh, I - I don't really know how to say this, but -”_

_“Wait, are you breaking up with me?”_

Bingo.

_“I - yeah, I'm sorry but I am.”_

_“Seriously?! What changed overnight? Is this about Killian?”_

_“What? No, it's me, I just, I need to focus on me.” He smiled tightly, nodding as though he understood, but his eyes betrayed the truth._

_“That's how I'm meant to sleep at night? You ‘need to focus on me’?” He made air quotes as he did it, irritating the hell out of her._

_“I'm sorry, Walsh. I don't want to hurt you, but I really don't know what else I can say. This just isn't working for me.”_

_It was like something had broken inside of Walsh. His eyes turned hard and his expression bitter._

_“I really wish you hadn't gone for that drink.”_

_Her face fell._

_“What? I just said this isn't about Killian. Yes, he isn't entirely terrible to be around, but that hardly means that we're about to jump into bed -”_

_This was apparently the wrong thing to say. Walsh threw a chair against the wall in some kind of jealous rage._

_“You know I actually kind of liked you? Little did I know what a slut you actually are.”_

_He lunged at her, but she ducked and he went flying over the side of the roof._

What the fuck?!

_Yeah, she'd had a feeling about the guy, but hadn't seen that coming. She took a few deep breaths, trying to steady her nerves. Her skin was tingling, her stomach churning and her heart racing. She crept to the edge of the roof, steeling herself to see Walsh's body on the ground below. However, his lifeless body was not what met her eyes. She was horrified to see a screeching monkey flying at her instead, talons out and ready to strike._

_Adrenaline coursed through her veins, as fear flooded through her body. She backed away reaching desperately for a weapon while trying to keep her eyes on the monster._

_As it flew closer, her terror grew; the emotion swelling to breaking point within her. She felt like she could explode with the force of her feelings. And with a sudden blast of energy and a blinding light, she did._

_When she came to, Walsh was but a pile ashes and the area around her looked like it had been scorched. There was a circle of disaster radiating from where she now laid. What the hell had she just done?_

She shuddered at the memory that had clawed its way to the forefront of her mind. It was one of worst things she had ever done, deliberate or not. She dreaded a repeat performance. While she knew that The Survivor would - as the name suggested - survive such an encounter, she was certain it would change his opinion of her. So many people were sure to be hurt if anything like that were to happen again. He always thought she was so good, so pure, and spoke of her with such reverence. If he knew what she was capable of and how she'd disintegrated her ex, how could he _not_ look at her differently? He had never hidden anything from her - besides his real name - but his past, his dark deeds? She knew them all. The time for her to confess her own sins had long since passed. 

Not to mention that this would bring her own true identity to light. Everyone would find out who she was. 

More importantly _Killian_ would find out who she was. 

Then she’d have to deal with the fact that he’d declared that he has a crush on her alter ego - and that the same couldn’t be said of her regular self. He’d probably feel like she’d tricked him and she wasn’t entirely sure she could blame him. 

She'd manage to alienate the two most important men in her life in one catastrophic act.

She burst through the doors of the club, half heartedly aware that she’d knocked at least one person to the side as she went. She ran down the street and, relieved, spotted a side alley she could run into.

She turned sharply and headed for it, determined to poof her way back to the safety of her apartment. Or to somewhere a million miles away.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing out here all alone in the dark?” a deep, gruff voice rumbled behind her just as she stepped into the shadows.

“Seriously?” She groaned turning to the source of the noise. A lumbering lunk of a man was leering at her. As he advanced on her, she calculated her options. Could she justify taking this guy out? Maybe she could wipe his memory to avoid detection?

At least his presence had completely killed her buzz so she didn’t have to worry about accidentally revealing herself.

“Step away from the lady, mate.” A very familiar, British voice rang out in the alley. She couldn’t decide whether to be delighted at The Survivor coming to her rescue or curse her luck at once again being confronted by him.

Her would-be attacker completely ignored The Survivor and continued moving closer to her. She edged away from him, feigning anxiety and fear that she did not feel.

“I said, step away from the lady.” As The Survivor spoke, he put his hand on the lunk’s shoulder, pulling the neanderthal back from her. There was a menacing glint in his eye.

“Or what?” The idiot turned around completely to stare down The Survivor, clearly hoping to frighten him with his size.

“Well…” Quick as a flash The Survivor drew back his fist and knocked the guy out. “Be grateful I didn’t give you my left hook.” He muttered to the now unconscious man.

Emma had been frozen in place watching the exchange, but with the interloper dealt with she started to slowly edge away from the scene. She wasn’t fast enough, though. The Survivor looked up, flashing her his most dazzling smile. His eyes were once again filled with a concern that she couldn’t understand considering that - as far as he knew - this was their first time meeting.

“Are you alright, love?” He asked, “he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No - no, I’m ok” She hoped he’d mistake the shake in her voice for lingering fear.

“May I - may I escort you home?” The last thing she needed was to spend more time in his company, but he looked so shy and eager and he sounded so uncertain. It was a whole new side to him and it was completely adorable.

“Um…”

“Please, I couldn’t forgive myself if something bad were to happen to you.” This completely threw her.

“You don’t even know me.”

“Well, maybe I'd like to get to know you.”

“Why?” He chuckled at her deeply suspicious questioning.

“Maybe I like what I see, love.” It was so cheesy, and even a little on the sleazy side, that she wanted to be annoyed at him. She wanted to roll her eyes and not feel like she was turning to mush before him. But there was no trace of a lie in any of his words. It was completely ridiculous, but fuck it, didn’t she deserve to be taken care of for once? She could play the damsel in distress for just one night.

“Maybe I like what I see too.”

“Yeah?” His insecure smile was dazzling. She was starting to feel unsteady, he was just so _earnest_ ; like her presence meant the world to him. She could practically feel her walls building up.

“Take me home, Survivor.” She gave him a little wink, which he met with a cheeky smile and a twinkle in his eye.

“You should be careful, love, I might get the wrong idea.”

“Who says you’ve got it wrong?” She threw back. This teasing and innuendo was far, far safer territory. And if she were to actually take him home - with all the fun that implied - would that really be so bad?

Killian’s face sprang to mind. 

She forced the thought back, he wasn’t hers and she wasn’t his. In fact, she’d almost decided that it was time to give up on her romantic thoughts of Killian and focus on The Survivor. Although that felt a lot like commitment and she wasn’t sure she could handle that. 

So instead here she was, lying to The Survivor, tricking him into… what? Taking her home? There was nothing wrong with that. Just because he didn't know she could take care of herself, didn't make the deception that bad. It was a white lie at worst and he did seem perfectly happy to go home with her. No, to escort her to her home. That was it. Perfectly innocent.

 _Liar_.

She gulped and stalked off in the direction of home, not stopping to see if he was following.

“So love, what were you doing in Supers!? Do you just have a thing for a man in a mask?” His tongue was tracing his lips suggestively. She raised a brow at him, considering how to play this.

“You know you followed me, right? Maybe you've got a thing for a damsel in distress?” Her eyes twinkled at the look of mock hurt that spread across his face, “It's like a fairytale, you're the mysterious, handsome knight come to rescue me from a terrible villain.” 

His face softened, “you think I'm handsome, love?” To her horror, she blushed at his words.

“Is that why you switched teams?” she deflected. “It’s easier to score when you're the one saving the day?”

“You know others might take offense at such words, but I say that when an enchanting damsel falls at your feet it’s only right to ensure her safety.” She scoffed, trying to ignore how touched she was at this. “Especially when she appreciates how handsome you are, even with half your face concealed.”

They walked in silence the rest of the way. She couldn’t quite find it in her to flirt or tease and she definitely didn’t want to think about this new and - dare she think it - romantic side to The Survivor.

“Well, this is me.” She declared, coming to a stop. She couldn’t tell you why exactly she’d allowed him to escort her right to the door of her apartment.

 _Bullshit_.

There was a beat. “So, er thanks for that.” He smiled warmly at her.

“Anytime, love.” He moved as though to walk away. She was stunned.

“Wait!” He turned back to her, a question in his eyes, “Aren’t you going to let me thank you for saving my life?” Before he could answer she grabbed his jacket by the lapels and yanked his lips to hers.

For the briefest of moments it was all her, throwing everything she could into this kiss. All that pent-up longing forcing her against him desperately.

Then he tangled his fingers into her hair, pulling her closer still as his lips parted against hers. Instinctively, she mimicked his movements, opening her lips in response, and sliding her own fingers into his hair. 

Kissing him was everything she had hoped for, and then some. She was finding it hard to breathe, but she couldn’t bear to be parted from him. Not when she was finally in his arms. When she finally knew just how well the man could kiss.

Once again, her magic was swelling within her. It was making her skin itch such that she longed to poof them inside, rip off all their clothes and press against each other. To release that pressure in the most delicious way.

She felt rather than saw the spark that flew from her fingertips. She pushed him back, terrified of hurting him, or revealing her secret.

_Please come inside._

She longed to say the words. But if a simple kiss had set her magic off, there was no way she could control it if they took things further.

He looked dazed - nearly as staggered as she was - touching his fingers to his lips even as he met her eyes. “That was -” He rasped out.

“Goodnight.” Emma panted out, barely noticing that he had spoken, before ripping the door open and running inside.

***

_“Take me home, Survivor.”_

He still couldn’t quite believe she’d actually said that to him. And the way she’d winked and teased… It was torture. He was actually starting to think walking her home was the worst idea he’d ever had. But it would be bad form to let any lady walk home alone at night. Let alone one that you love, who had only just escaped from being attacked with your help.

His jaw clenched at the thought of that neanderthal hurting his Swan. 

Her hand brushed lightly against his, he felt a warm glow spread throughout his whole body, and all his tension was gone. Her touch always had the power to soothe him. He glanced at her, looking for a sign that she had done it deliberately, but she was looking ahead and seemed not to have noticed.

He smiled to himself, looking back the way they were heading.

He could still feel where she had touched him. He was turning into a cliche from a romance novel. Sighing over the ghost of her touch. Revelling in the electricity between them. Drowning in the sexually charged tension in the air.

It was like the universe was playing a sick joke on him.

Because, however much he wanted her - and, God, did he want her - he couldn’t allow anything to happen. Even if she did “have a thing for a man in a mask” like he’d teased, he couldn’t insist on keeping it on, but couldn’t take it off without revealing the truth.

She’d been giving Killian - giving _him_ \- the cold shoulder all week. There was no way she’d invite Killian in to share her bed. Or to take her against a wall, he wasn’t particular.

_Stop it._

He couldn’t escape the fact that he would be deceiving Emma. It made him sick to his stomach to even think about it.

And yet he couldn’t help the fact that he longed to be with her, to hold her and make love to her. That’s what made being near her like this so hard.

And that’s without considering The Saviour.

Killian had always been a loyal man. Once he gave you his heart, it was yours, for better or worse. So to find himself in the position where he was in love with two women was a strange torment. He felt a terrible sense of guilt for the merest thought of one over the other. And yet, he belonged to neither. Not truly, anyway.

All of this self-loathing and doubt was already a weight on him. If he were to actually form a relationship with one, well, he wasn’t sure his heart could bear the pain of losing the other.

“Well, this is me.” She declared halting in front of her apartment door. He had been so lost in tormenting himself that he had barely noticed that they’d made it to her place. What a torture to think that the beautiful lady who he loved possibly wanted to sleep with him.

_God, you’re pathetic._

“So, er thanks for that.” She looked so lovely smiling up at him that he couldn’t help the beaming grin he sent her way.

“Anytime, love.” He turned to leave, keen to end this moment before he did something he’d regret.

“Wait!” Emma yelped. He turned back quickly, a little alarmed and unsure of what could be wrong. “Aren’t you going to let me thank you for saving my life?” And with that she grabbed hold of him by  the lapels and pulled him in for a kiss.

All the thoughts that had plagued him on their walk over came rushing back to him. The self doubt and the divided loyalties of his heart almost making him pull away.

_For God’s sake man, this is Emma! This is everything you’ve wanted for the past year, now stop being a twat and bloody well enjoy it!_

And with that, he gave into the kiss and all thoughts flew from his mind.

They were completely wrapped up in each other, making it harder and harder for him to remember that they really couldn’t do anymore than this. All that he knew was how good her body felt against his and he never wanted it to end. The heat between them crackled in the air. He was entirely wrapped up in the moment. 

And then she shoved him away.

It was exactly what he needed. A shock to his system to end this kiss. But when he saw that she looked as overcome with the power of that kiss too, it was all he could do to not grab her and kiss her again.

“That was -” He panted, trying desperately to calm his breath.

“Good night.” She threw open her door and ran inside, slamming the door behind her.

Killian stood in stunned silence for a minute before slumping forward so his forehead hit the door.

He had just kissed Emma Swan. Or actually, Emma Swan had just kissed him. And she had run away. Again.

_Fuck!_

If he had dreamt that she would kiss well, the real thing was a million times better. She was softer and yet more passionate. Desperate for him in a way he couldn’t comprehend. There was a spark between them that was so strong its force could have knocked him out.

He stumbled away from her door and back home.

_He was lounging in bed with his love, peppering kisses across her skin and enjoying her contented sighs._

_“Killian, you should, you -” she gasped as he bit down on her neck. “You - ” she tugged lightly on his hair, he continued to nibble on her._

_“Killian.” There was no ignoring her firm tone this time. He looked up expectantly, she truly was breathtaking like this, her long locks tumbling over her naked body and love in her eyes._

_“Aye, love?”_

_“You need to go.” He responded by tickling her, he loved the sound of her giggles._

_“You don't really mean that,” he murmured against her body, enjoying her shiver as his breath touched her._

_“I do. I -”_

_He had kissed his way down her body and was now settled between her thighs._

_“Do you wish for me to stop my lady?”_

_“Don't.” She gasped, eyes closed in ecstasy. He moved away, deliberately misunderstanding her, she opened her eyes to glare at him. “Don't. Stop.” She ordered, he grinned._

_“As you wish.”_

_He awoke much later, feeling an intense and unbearable heat. He blinked his eyes in confusion before realising that the room was on fire._

_Instinctively he reached for his love, shaking her awake, needing to know she hadn't succumbed to the smoke._

_As her eyes opened, he heard a shrill giggle and a high pitched voice calling out. “She’s not dead yet. Where would the fun be in that?”_

_He motioned for her to stay quiet and moved himself in front of her protectively. His right arm was raised defensively, while his left hand brushed against her side soothingly. He meant it as a reassurance - he told himself it was was all for her, but he needed it too._

_Suddenly his boss, Douglas Gold appeared in front of him. In the light of the flames, his skin seemed to glitter._

_“You shouldn't touch what isn't yours, Lieutenant Jones,” the man sneered. He flicked his wrist, and Killian felt a wave of excruciating white hot pain ripple out from his wrist and across his whole body. The agony caused a wave of nausea before everything went numb._

_Dimly he realised he couldn't feel his love anymore and he looked down, realising in a dreamy, bemused kind of way that his left hand was gone. He could feel a strange horror, but in a muted, passive way, as though he were merely sympathising for a trauma inflicted on someone else._

_After a moment he realised that she had leapt to her feet and was now stood in front of Gold, pleading with him. He felt like he ought to stop her somehow, but his brain and his body wouldn’t cooperate._

_“Let him go, Douglas, I know all about your librarian. We're both in love with other people, let's just call it a day.”_

_“But why would I do that? I do so enjoy squashing people.” Gold's eyes gleamed with delight at the thought._

I'm not going to survive this, _Killian mused, feeling strangely at peace, simply accepting his fate._

_“No! Please, I'll do anything. Anything!”_

_“Oh, I love it when they say that!” Douglas grinned manically, “is he worth it, dearie? Are you begging for the life of your twooo love?”_

_“Yes!” She sobbed, “Yes, I - I love him! Please! Let him go Douglas!”_

_“And I always thought you were heartless. If only I'd known you’d just given it to him.” Gold giggled then, delighted with himself. “Hmm..” he plunged his hand into her chest, before drawing it back, ripping her heart out with it. She fell to the floor, dead._

_“NOOOOOOO!” wailed Killian, the horror he'd just witnessed jolting him out of the haze he'd been in. He struggled to her lifeless body, slipping on their combined blood as tears streamed down his face._

_“I believe this belongs to you,” Gold dropped her still warm and bloody heart into Killian’s lap._

_Gold moved to leave._

_“You're just going to leave me here?” Killian choked out, hating how pathetic his voice sounded. “She offered you anything to spare me, you bloody crocodile, you broke your deal!”_

_The demon turned back to Killian, a terrifying gleam in his eyes._

_“She did, but I think you'll find, I did not accept her terms.”_

_Killian was paralysed with fury at the injustice of the situation._

_“You took her heart,” he snarled._

_“No. You took it. You really should take better care of your things, dearie.”_

_Killian was speechless, in utter shock._

_“Bye bye, dearie, see you in the next life!” Gold disappeared in a cloud of smoke and fire filled Killian's vision._

Killian woke with a start. It had been a long time since he had recalled the terrible circumstances that led to him becoming Hook. The nights that he did were always unspeakably painful, but tonight there was a new twist to the old misery: his mind had forced Emma Swan into Milah Gold's place.

He rubbed at his temples, trying to ease the ache brought on by the vivid nightmare. The imagined sight of Emma with a hole in her chest, her body lifeless as blood poured from her wound would stay with him forever.

The dream was a warning at best, a terrible prophecy of doom at worst. He was certain it was an omen: being with Emma would end up with one of them dead, and, with his immortal status, the smart money was on her.

He looked to the clock, only 2am. He closed his eyes, but knew that sleep wouldn't come for him again that night.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry? If you want to come yell at me on tumblr you'll find me @katie-dub


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Previously on The Masks We Wear**
> 
> _Emma Swan AKA The Saviour and Killian Jones AKA Hook AKA The Survivor are in love. They just don’t know it yet. And while they’re busy working with their fellow Nevengers to bring down The Dark One, they don’t have time to find out. Emma Swan and The Survivor shared a passionate kiss after she interrupted his attempts to woo The Evil Queen to the heroes' cause. But the kiss triggered old nightmares for The Survivor that may make him push Emma away for good..._
> 
> “She felt rather than saw the spark that flew from her fingertips. She pushed him back, terrified of hurting him, or revealing her secret.”
> 
> “It was an omen: being with Emma would end up with one of them dead, and, with his immortal status, the smart money was on her.”

Emma had broken her alarm clock. Or more like exploded it. She really didn't mean to. It's just that being startled awake when she was a mess of confusing emotions and conflicting desires wasn't compatible with her keeping control of her powers. Result? Broken alarm clock.

She'd had a really bad night's sleep. Her emotions and magic were turned up to the max before that kiss. But after? She needed a whole new lexicon to describe the intensity of what she was feeling. It's at times like these she wished for a fortress of solitude so she could rest safe in the knowledge that she wouldn't accidentally cause a nuclear holocaust in her sleep.

Because now she knew how incredible it felt to kiss The Survivor and she had no clue how she could engineer another, while maintaining her cover. She dimly wondered if she could just take to loitering around darkened alleys pretending to be in distress and attacking his lips in gratitude every time. 

_Desperation does not look good on you, Emma Swan._

Of course the sensible, logical, and above all else, mature way to deal with this would be to confront things head on: She could just ask the man out.

_But.._.

She'd known from day one that The Survivor was in love with another. And while she had never wanted to ask the particulars of a relationship that would see him happily and enthusiastically making out with a rescuee, she could not forget it existed.

Unless, of course, she believed what Henry had said and she was indeed The Survivor’s angel.

That thought shouldn't have made her feel so happy.

And yet, even though Henry’s urgings had helped her to decide that she should be with The Survivor, her heart was stubbornly clinging onto Killian Jones.

Her civilian best friend. The one thing that made going to work something to look forward to. The Most Beautiful Man In The World.

Thoughts of him had been the one blight on what could have been a perfect night. At some point sighing over the perfection of The Survivor's lips against hers morphed into wondering how it would feel to kiss Killian instead. It made her feel quite desperate to find out, certain that if she just knew who was the better kisser it would help her to settle the constant argument raging in her heart.

How could she ever truly devote herself to The Survivor when she felt like this?

_And this is why you’re better off alone._

In the meantime though, whoever she did (or more likely did not) end up dating, she needed to make amends to Killian, and fast. She knew she'd hurt him by pushing him away this past week, but her anxiety for The Survivor was such that she just couldn't cope with Killian and his understanding eyes and perceptive ways. She knew she'd end up saying more than she should. There was no way to explain it without revealing her whole secret life and exposing him to the ugly tornado that was her heart.

_Yeah, so I'm freaking out about the guy I'm in love with, but I'm maybe in love with you too. And I kind of want both of you, I'm assuming you'd be happy to share, yes?_

Yes, there was a tiny spark inside of her that thought how hot it would be to share them. But the thought of one relationship was draining enough, she barely had energy to cope with that. No, if she was ever going to find a fairytale ending, she would have to choose.

But then, a happy ending had never seemed to be in the cards for her. All she knew was that it wasn't fair to anyone to continue to feel this way.

First though, she needed to apologise.

She didn't know what to do. She thought of Killian and what he would do.

_Killian wouldn’t have hurt you like this in the first place._ She forced the thought back. If her tragic romantic history wasn’t enough to keep her away from Killian, the knowledge that he was far too good for her certainly would.

Killian would probably have some speech for her, explaining in that eloquent way of his that he had done wrong by her and whether or not she ever forgave him, she deserved the truth. Her stomach lurched a little at the thought: fine words and honesty were not her forte.

He'd also do something unbearably sweet, like buy her favourite pick-me-up and leave an adorable note to show he cared _. Just like yesterday_. Her anxiety, combined with the guilt over her behaviour, had made her actually feel sick at the sight. In the end she handed them over to John from accounts. She figured that at least someone should enjoy them, but promised herself that she'd thank Killian for the kind gesture. She hadn't.

So, if she was going to apologise, she needed to try to speak his language, she needed to do something special for him.

She frowned - his healthy eating habits ruled out easily attainable treats - before remembering the citrus fruits sitting in her fridge. She had bought them out of habit at the weekend for Killian's favourite grapefruit salad, forgetting that she had cancelled their brunch plans. They might still be good today. She squinted at the time on her phone: 8:15. If she used a little magic to speed up getting ready and cut down on travel times, she could make the salad and collect a coffee from his favourite place that was all the way across town. She smiled to herself; this could work.

She just managed to scribble out “I'm sorry, I'm the worst” and hide just out of sight before Killian arrived.

She watched as a hopeful smile spread across his face before quickly rushing to her own desk and pretending to work. Sure enough, a moment later Killian was there, leaning up against her desk.

“The Breakfast Fairy visited me this morning, you wouldn't know anything about that would you, Swan?”

She pretended to think hard, before deciding on the perfect teasing reply.

“Well, I have been hiding magical powers, but at last check, there are no wings under my clothes.”

“Do you need me to take a look? I can promise a thorough inspection.” Killian did that thing with his tongue that always made her body tingle.

She laughed and pushed him good-naturedly. He laughed back.

“Lunch at Granny's?” She asked, delighting in his happy grin, “I've missed you.”

“And I, you.” After a torturous moment that had her once again longing to feel his lips on hers, he moved to leave. He quickly stopped and leaned down so his lips were close to her ear. “And you are not the worst, love, I'll see you later.”

They were sitting on either side of a booth at Granny's waiting for their food to arrive.

“Not to be ‘that guy’, love, but are you ever going to tell me what happened to you this week?”

Emma dropped her eyes, pouting a little as she fumbled around for an excuse that would justify her actions. Her skin started to feel hot and her hand began to tremble -

Killian took her hand and her stress was instantly eased. She looked at him. Frankly, he didn't look great - he was weary, and his eyes were a little bloodshot. He was trying to look reassuring but she saw how much hurt she'd caused him and felt terrible. He deserved the truth, or as much of it as she could give.

“There's a part of me that I try to block out when I'm at work, but I guess I haven't done so well this week.”

He furrowed his brow, clearly worried for her. “I could help ease this burden - whatever it is - if you'll let me, love.”

“I want to tell you, I do, but it's not my story to tell. I know that sounds like crap, but I can tell you that it's nothing you've done and I'm sorry for being so unfair to you.”

“And that's all you can tell me, Swan?” There was a hint of disappointment on his face. She squeezed his hand a little.

“For now. I really am sorry.” She answered him, he nodded almost imperceptibly in acknowledgement. “So, what's going on with you, Killian? Hate to say it, but it looks like someone knocked the handsome out of you.”

He gasped in outrage, but there was a slight smirk on his face. “Come now, Swan. We both know that's not even possible.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

“Devilishly handsome you may be, but the point still stands: You aren't looking so hot today. Is everything OK?”

“Aye,” she eyed Killian in disbelief, “I just … did I ever tell you about how I lost my hand?” She didn't know what she expected, but it wasn't this. Killian slumped forward, jaw clenched and despair in his eyes. “I was attacked.”

She was equal parts horrified and furious; she'd always assumed he'd simply had a tragic accident, but someone had done this to him deliberately? She wanted to pull him into her arms and protect him from the world.

It's at times like this that she wishes she had Killian's way with words. She wants to say something more meaningful and helpful than ‘that fucking sucks’, but really; it's all she's got.

She moves around to his side of the booth and wraps her arm around him. He tilts his head against hers and laces their fingers together. His touch makes her heart glow, she feels him relax against her and hopes that, even if she can never find the words at least she can ease his pain with her powers.

“I wish I was better with words - I could - I dunno…” She broke off, suddenly at a loss as to what exactly she thought finding the right words could do.

“Just having you here is enough, love.”

“Do you want to talk to about it?”

“I never _want_ to talk about it. I don't even want to think about it. I used to have nightmares about it every night. But I hadn't had one in months until last night. When I have them it's like” he halted, taking a deep breath, “it's like it's happening to me all over again.”

She squeezed his hand and rubbed his back in what she hoped was a soothing gesture.

“I'd forgotten what it felt like. I used to think I'd never be able to let go of that darkness and misery, that is until -” He broke off, looking away.

“What is it, Killian?”

He stubbornly avoided looking her way. She gently stroked her hand along his jaw, noting with glee that he closed his eyes in pleasure at the feeling. After a moment of reveling in the intimacy, she gently turned his face towards hers. “Killian?”

He looked deeply conflicted, “It’s nothing, Swan.”

She frowned and released him. She couldn’t understand why he was holding back, didn’t he know that she would help him in any way she could?

“Look, if there’s something that’s going to stop you going through that every night, I need to know so I can get it for you.” He laughed mirthlessly at her impassioned plea. “What?”

“It’s nothing you can acquire for me, Swan, although I sincerely appreciate the gesture.” She folded her arms and waited for him to say more. He looked nervous and uncertain. “Bloody hell lass, have you ever considered a career in law enforcement? I feel ready to confess all my sins to you after this interrogation. Did I ever tell you about the time I made a man walk the plank? It was at university, just into a swimming pool, and there may have been a lot of rum involved -”

“Jones, you’re babbling. And yes, you did tell me that story, you were dressed as Captain Hook, he was Blackbeard, you” she mimicked his posh voice, air quoting as she said, “‘took the rivalry a bit too far’.”

“It was a fancy dress party.” He agreed weakly, “I was dressed top to toe in leather. You’d have liked it, Swan, I know how you like a man in leather.”

She smiled sadly, it seemed that whatever was going on wasn’t something he was really prepared to share. But she had to try one last time.

“And you looked devilishly handsome, I’m sure.” His wicked grin was back, at least he was starting to seem more like himself. “But now, enough stalling. What helped with your nightmares?”

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the ceiling with a deep sigh. He seemed to be steeling himself for something.

“I thought I’d never be rid of the nightmares... until I met you.” He looked at her warily, clearly unsure what reaction to expect.

Her breath caught in her throat. She had helped to drive away his nightmares? It was overwhelming, and yet, utterly wonderful. Almost unconsciously she moved closer to him. His eyes widened and she saw him look down at her lips as he leaned in -

“Grilled cheese?”

She jumped back, startled by the appearance of the waitress. She groaned as she hit her knee against the bottom of the table in her hurry to move. Killian's eyes flashed in annoyance, but he bit his lip and said nothing.

“That's mine.” She muttered, staring down at her hands. She'd been so close to kissing him for the first time. Just a few short hours after deciding that really, she belonged with another man.

_Fuck, The Survivor._

She had a flash of the memory of The Survivor's lips against hers. She felt hot all over.

She glanced sideways at Killian. He was looking sullenly - and almost guiltily - down at the food the waitress had just placed in front of him.

She found herself feeling relieved for the interruption. He had just confessed how much she meant to him, who could blame her for being caught up in the romance? But if they'd kissed and she didn't feel that chemistry that she had with The Survivor? She'd have lost her best friend.

_And you might break his heart._

His confession had upped the stakes on their relationship. She couldn't pretend not to see that he wanted more from her now. And it was more important than ever to decide once and for all who she wanted. Before she hurt them both.

****

Killian started the morning in a terrible mood. Every time he closed his eyes he saw a vision of Emma bloody and lifeless in front of him. It made sleep an impossibility so instead he brooded and knocked back black coffee mixed with rum in an attempt to numb the pain of the nightmares.

He had been so happy when he went to sleep, with the memory of Emma's lips against his. But that dream had laid bare some bitter truths:

Getting involved with Emma would surely be a death sentence for her.

Somewhere along the way he had become convinced that she would be his happy ending.

Ergo, a happy ending was something he could never have.

It made sense to him really; he did not deserve it. Villains don't get happy endings. It didn't matter how much good he did, or would ever do, he would never escape his fate. Or hers.

For the first time in a week, he felt relieved that Emma was giving him the silent treatment. It was so much easier to deal with the disappointment and headache when she clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

But then she'd apologised to him so adorably. She'd tried so hard to make him happy with the homemade breakfast and fancy coffee that took her miles out of her way.

And at lunch she'd been so concerned that he found himself spilling far more of his secrets than he should. And she responded with such love and devotion that for the first time he allowed himself to truly hope that she wanted Killian Jones as much - or maybe even more than - Hook. He was almost relieved that the waitress had interrupted them. If she had kissed him then that would be it for him: his heart would belong to Emma Swan and her fate would be sealed.

The thought was simply unbearable.

He continued in a daze for the rest of the day. Exhaustion was nipping at his heels as he kept his head down and focussed on avoiding a run in with his boss. He didn’t really have the energy to cope with that today.

Just as he was due to leave for the day, he received a message from The Evil Queen. She wanted to talk.

“Want to get a drink with me?” Emma had appeared by his side. There was a hopeful look in her eyes and her arms hung awkwardly as she slumped against his desk in what he’d come to think of as her “Emma tries and fails to look casual” pose.

He hesitated.

“I -” A look of horror immediately crossed Emma’s face. She crossed and uncrossed her arms, all limbs and awkwardness. Fending off the inevitable rejection. He smiled in spite of himself, she never was very good at nonchalance. “I really would love to, Swan, alas I already have plans for the evening.”

She nodded, looking more uncomfortable still, a very slight hint of a pout on her gorgeous lips. The lips that last night had been so enthusiastically pressed against his own.

“You washing your hair, Jones?”

“Well, Swan, it takes time and effort to look this good. Don’t tell me you don’t appreciate my hard work.” He had to avert his eyes from the sight of her looking very appreciative indeed. It was hard enough to keep to his resolve to forsake her for her own good without her testing him like this.

He closed his eyes, seeking to find some inner strength to call upon, and saw her lifeless face again. His imagination was cruel, but it certainly spurred him on to do the right thing.

He looked up at her smiling, “I’m truly sorry, Swan, perhaps another time?”

“Sure thing.”

It broke his heart a little to see her false smile and hear the overly breezy tone she used. He forced himself not to comfort her. If he touched her, he wasn’t sure he would be able to leave her side and he couldn’t keep the queen waiting.

He met The Evil Queen at the docks this time. While hopeful that this meant she didn’t consider this rendezvous a date, he still felt the need to turn on the charm when he caught sight of her. She had her back to him so he could see the elaborately ruffled leather riding coat she wore. It was long, with interestingly prominent shoulder pads, a high collar and ornate detailing all over.

_Well, it’s a look_ , he thought to himself. She didn’t appear to be dressed to impress - or at least, not him - but he couldn’t be too sure. Seduction may still be the route to The Dark One’s demise.

He pulled himself up to his full height, and sauntered over. “Your majesty.” He bent down into bow and caught her hand to kiss it, as befitting royalty. He straightened up to see an unimpressed - even slightly bemused - expression on her face.

“Oh for God's sake, this is ridiculous,” she waved her hand and her elaborate get up disappeared, replaced with a sensible pantsuit. “Call me Regina.” He'd know her anywhere; she was the bane of his working life. His demanding, irascible boss.

_Bloody hell,_ he thought, _that explains a lot._

She stared at him defiantly. “I trust I can rely on you to be discreet? You _are_ a hero now, are you not?”

He realised then that his mouth was hanging open stupidly, as he was caught dumb by this unexpected reveal. He promptly shut his mouth and nodded in response to her question.

He felt a sudden pang of trepidation as it hit him that this was one of the first times that he’d met someone from his real life while playing the hero. The very first time was his unexpected encounter with Emma last night, although he had been a little too preoccupied by confusing affairs of the heart to feel real nerves then.

He’d never forget his first, but this unexpected unveiling of his boss as The Evil Queen was so bizarre it was sure to stick in his mind. He focussed on acting normally, on seeming like nothing had changed in their relationship.

“Of course, Regina, was it?” He offered his hand to shake, “You can continue to call me Hook - or The Survivor if you’d prefer. It’s nothing against you but my secret identity is known only by me and I’d like to keep it that way.”

She raised a brow at him, lips pursed but nodded. He searched her eyes for any sign of recognition, breathing a slight sigh of relief when he found none.

Although, he couldn’t help but wonder at her inability to see the obvious. True, he’d always made a distinction between his two personas, but were they really that distinct?

Killian Jones was fresh faced and innocent, dressing in pale colours, soft fabrics, t-shirts and plaid. He spoke with the refined, slightly posh English accent that Liam had hammered into him to help them better their station in life. (He wasn’t sure it had. Although he couldn’t deny that being a well spoken Brit in America had enticed many a lass, and earned him the dismissive nickname “Downton” from the less than impressed men with them.)

Hook was his dark side personified - eyes rimmed with black, face half obscured and he always allowed his razor sharp wit to cut a little deeper than polite Killian ever would. His south London roots to shine through when he talked, all gruffness and venom.

Perhaps he truly was a master of disguise. Perhaps The Evil Queen was just a little preoccupied with her own revelations to think of what secrets he himself concealed.

It made him smile a little to himself. He was always mocking others for their inability to see the man behind the mask, him and The Saviour made something of a sport of it. And yet, he had failed to notice that he’d been working for The Evil Queen this whole time.

It made him wonder, not for the first time, who The Saviour truly was. Perhaps he’d already met her. He dismissed the thought immediately, there was no way he could’ve ever been in the presence of a Goddess amongst men and not be drawn to her. Of course he would feel that pull to her, of course he would recognise his love.

“Might I hazard a guess that the change in attire indicates a desire to shed The Evil Queen moniker?”

“Indeed.” He smiled a little to himself.

“I take it all went well with The Hood?”

“I'll have you know that I was trying to be good before I met him. I _am_ capable of it, you know.” She snapped at him.

“Your cheerful disposition and amenable personality does certainly scream hero.” He smirked at her; she scowled in return.

“Do you want me to bring The Evil Queen back? Do you want to know what would happen to you if I ripped your throat out? Hell, I might just be doing everyone a favour - we wouldn’t have to listen to you talk.”

“Well, that escalated quickly. You might want to work on that, love.” He spoke lightly, hoping to diffuse the tension. As much fun as it was to tease Regina, he could sense the anxiety and self doubt that were fuelling her words and had no desire to further her distress.

He had been there himself, insecurities gnawing at him while he tried to stumble his way towards being a better man. If it hadn’t been for the effortless support of his loves he never could have made it. Now, it was his chance to offer that same generosity to someone else, and he wouldn’t let them down. Regina needed it, and if he was honest with himself, he needed it too. He kept hoping that one day he’d truly believe himself worthy of the title of “hero”, always needing _just one more_ good deed to help alleviate his fears and regret.

Regina was staring at the ground, sullenly saying nothing. She had locked herself inside a fortress, unwilling to let either friend or foe inside. Luckily, he was highly skilled at climbing walls.

“I did not mean to upset you, lass. It’s an admirable thing to want to change and if The Hood inspires you to goodness, you should hold onto him and never let him go.”

“Is that what Emma Swan is to you? Your inspiration to goodness?”

He inhaled sharply. Of course Regina had recognised Emma last night and of course she would wonder about the connection. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea, but he found himself wanting to share his burden. Wanting to talk to someone about how he was deeply in love with an impossible dream. He thought Regina might be the one who could understand. After all, she had just shared a weighty truth with him.

“Aye,” he nodded, and was embarrassed to realise his eyes were getting misty. “Although we cannot be together,” his jaw clenched, and he looked away, finding himself unable to continue.

“Because of Killian?” He looked back at her, alarmed to hear his own name. Her eyes softened slightly with understanding and he felt an overwhelming sense of dread. “Oh, you didn’t know about him?” _Oh._ It wasn’t recognition but pity he had seen in her eyes. “He’s her boyfriend.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond. His mouth hung open stupidly. It took him an embarrassingly long time to recover from this unexpected declaration. 

“I wasn’t aware of any romantic entanglements the lovely Swan may find herself in.” Regina’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at his words. “I merely believe that any romance between the two of us would be unwise.”

“Yes, you wouldn’t want to come between Killian and his _Swan_.” She said the word pointedly, he berated himself for using what could be such an obvious tell.

“If this ‘Killian’ can call Emma Swan his beloved, he is a very lucky man indeed. Alas, I will never be worthy of her affections -”

“What makes you say that?”

“I have done many dark deeds and made many enemies. I may have, in the past, targeted the hero’s partners to hurt them, I expect you’ve done the same?” Regina looked uncomfortable but nodded almost imperceptibly, clearly feeling as deeply ashamed as he did. “It would not be right to court such a lovely lass when doing so would place her in harm’s way.”

“I guess it’s lucky for you that she’s already taken then.”

He wasn’t sure why Regina thought he - _thought Killian_ \- was dating Emma, but this was not the time to question it.

“And lucky for you that you have given your affections to a superhero. I am sure The Hood can hold his own should any villain choose to target him.”

Regina’s face lit up at the mention of The Hood. Despite his own sorry excuse for a love life, it was lovely to see her looking so blissfully happy.

_Perhaps she’ll be nicer to work for now._

“I think he might actually be my soulmate - that sounds ridiculous doesn’t it?”

“I think it sounds wonderful.”

“For so long I was lost and alone. There was someone else, once. My Daniel. But my mother, she -” she choked back a little sob turning away from him to hide her tears, “she ripped his heart out.”

Killian was staggered. He saw first Milah, then Emma, dead in his mind’s eye. The echoes of memories and nightmares combining and tearing at his heart. Tentatively he reached a hand out to Regina, placing it on her shoulder. Whether the gesture was meant to comfort him or her, he honestly couldn’t say.

“The Dark One ripped my first love’s heart out.” Regina gasped and turned to look at him, eyes wide at the revelation of how much they had in common.

“Why would he do that to you - to her?”

“Why did your mother take Daniel’s heart? These villains only wish to hurt people.”

Regina looked thoughtful, “no. That’s not it. He’s always been obsessed with you, Hook, who are you to him?”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, before gesturing to a nearby bench. He needed to sit to steady his nerves. Once settled, he finally found the courage to speak.

“I cannot tell you everything while maintaining my anonymity. I can say that once upon a time I worked for Gold. I fell in love with his wife, and she with me. We had plans to run away together but he discovered us. He took my hand and her heart and left me for dead. Were I a normal man, I am sure I would have perished along with her. At times I wish I had, for then we would be together.”

Regina nodded in agreement, it felt so good to speak to someone who could truly understand his anguish.

“I turned to vengeance for comfort and swore to find a way to kill Douglas Gold. I’m not clear whether he ever made the connection between the villainous Hook and the former employee who won his wife’s affections. I believe he only wants me gone because I am one of the few who knows that he is The Dark One.” He tilted his head smiling a little cockily to himself, “and there’s the small matter of my repeated assassination attempts. Still, tenth time's the charm, that’s what they say, right?” He chuckled mirthlessly.

“You really think you can kill Gold?” Regina was very clearly unimpressed with him.

“None of us will truly be safe until he is either dead or imprisoned. This is not about revenge any more; I only want to bring The Dark One down for the good of all. Last night I dreamt that he killed Emma Swan in front of me, just as he did my Milah,” he shook his head to keep the images from his mind. “I cannot rest until I know that she is safe from him.” Killian leaned forward, looking at Regina beseechingly, “please, Regina, please help us.”

She looked uncharacteristically rattled and unsure, but covered it up with a sarcastic quirk of her eyebrow. “You still want to do this even if you won’t get the girl in the end?”

He had to force himself not to laugh.

“If you know Emma Swan, you will know that she is not loot or some trophy to be won, she is a treasure above all others. I would do anything for her and if that means stepping aside to allow her to find happiness with another, so be it.”

He tried not to imagine how it would feel to finally hang up his hook, knowing he had defeated Gold. To get out of his own way and give up this double life for Emma. To just go to her, take her in his arms and kiss her. “I just want - I need - to know that she will survive.”

Finally, _finally,_ Regina looked impressed, nodding at him with respect.

“Alright Hook, your story’s won me over. Now, how can I help?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on tumblr, I'm @katie-dub :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Previously on The Masks We Wear**
> 
>  
> 
> _Emma Swan AKA The Saviour and Killian Jones AKA Hook AKA The Survivor are in love. They just don’t know it yet. And while they’re busy working with their fellow Nevengers to bring down The Dark One, they don’t have time to find out. They may not have made any progress in their romantic relationship, but The Survivor has persuaded The Evil Queen to help the heroes’ in their quest to destroy The Dark One. Maybe once he’s gone they’ll have time to untangle their complicated relationship…_
> 
>  
> 
> “Almost unconsciously Emma moved closer to Killian. His eyes widened and she saw him look down at her lips as he leaned in -”
> 
> “I just want - I need - to know that she will survive.”

It would be true to say that Emma was a little surprised by the turn of events that lead to her discussing strategies to defeat Douglas Gold with her boss, Regina. True, though somewhat understating the extent of her feelings. But it was incredibly hard for her to accurately express her feelings in words anyway. She’d probably have to resort to some forms of shouting, a good deal of arm waving and maybe simply falling down on the floor with shock.

It’s good that she isn’t the dramatic sort.

All she actually did upon discovering that _her boss is The Evil Queen_ was mutter “huh” under her breath and look on slightly dumbstruck, not quite processing the news. Emma probably would have gotten away without looking like a complete idiot were it not for the fact that Regina seemed determined to shake hands with all the Nevengers. (Emma couldn’t help but feel like this was her majesty’s way of reaching out to the commoners, showing that they were friends or some such shit.)

When it was Emma’s turn to be greeted she just stared at her boss for an embarrassingly long time. She was suddenly sweating at the prospect of being recognised and panicking at Regina’s close proximity. It took a loud cough from The Survivor for her to realise what was expected of her and she thrust her hand out to shake, feeling like a toddler being taught about politeness.

Luckily for her, Henry was next to greet Her Evilness, and he jumped in quickly. He was his usual eager self, announcing that Regina reminded him of his mom. “She’s a feisty businesswoman who doesn’t take crap, just like you! Although I’m pretty sure she couldn’t actually fuck someone up like you can.”

“Cut it out, kid!” Emma admonished instantly, a weird motherly instinct to protect Henry from the force of Regina’s disapproval welling up inside. To her surprise, Regina actually smiled at Henry.

“While I appreciate the compliment, I’m trying to put those days behind me, and I am sure your mother wouldn’t appreciate your language.” Regina grinned at him like she was making an incredible joke, “especially not when you’re talking to royalty.”

“Of course, sorry ma’am, you’ll hear no more fucks from me. Except for that last one, but that’s the last fuck that’ll come out of my mouth in your presence. Wait... shit!”

Regina threw back her head and laughed at Henry’s complete inability to stop the four letter words from spurting out of his mouth.

“Tell you what, Henry. If you try harder not to curse with every other word, I’ll work on getting my temper under control.” Regina was talking conspiratorially to Henry; “Deal?”

“Deal.” The young man agreed, a small smirk appearing on his face, delighted at being a part of something.

Emma was entranced by the exchange. If she found the idea that she had been working for The Evil Queen all this time shocking, that was nothing to her utter astonishment at the woman being... _nice?_ It was disconcerting and she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

Luckily she didn’t have long to dwell on it, soon the Nevengers were all assembled and ready to hear what Regina had to say about Gold.

It felt like several hours had gone by with Regina talking, explaining all that she knew about Gold. Emma was finding it really hard to concentrate. She needed to get her shit together and just focus on the grand plan: Bring down The Dark One, save the world.

But The Survivor was sitting there with his kissable lips and it would just be so easy to crawl over the table and right into his lap. Or to magic them away to a nice private bed where she could see if he did everything else as well as he kissed.

Even she was disgusted with herself. The man had turned her into some kind of horny teenager. You would think that she’d never had sex before.

 _You’ve never had sex with him…_ whispered that teasing little voice inside. She really wished that she could give the metaphorical devil on her shoulder a good hard punch in the face. It was really hard not to listen when she had spent countless hours replaying their kiss in her mind. But she really needed to focus, what they were discussing was important.

“Enough of all of this!” The Survivor slammed his fist down on the table, making Emma jump. In that moment he looked like Hook of old. (Emma should not have found it so enticing). “I’m sure it’s vital that we know whether The Dark One prefers oatmeal or toast for breakfast, but for now can we skip ahead to what really matters? Tell us what the hell this bloody thing is.” The Survivor jabbed his hook at the blueprints they had acquired to the mysterious unnamed weapon.

“Patience is a virtue, Hook,” snapped Regina.

“Forgive me if my patience is wearing thin when the life of the woman I love is at stake!” The Survivor snarled out the words in a furious rage. Emma was struck dumb. She had allowed herself to forget that this man had a real life with a real partner waiting for him somewhere. His _angel_. She could have cried.

She looked around the room, all eyes had turned to her. All except Regina’s and The Survivor’s. They were both oblivious to everything but their conversation.

“You know we can protect her, don’t you, Hook?” When Regina spoke again her voice was soft and understanding. Emma didn’t know how to react to the kindness and warmth Regina displayed, it was disconcerting and her mind was already reeling. “Emma Swan will be safe, we’ll make sure of it.”

Emma might have gasped, but she couldn’t be sure of anything with the scene that was playing out before her. Somehow Regina had the ridiculous idea that _she, Emma,_ was the woman The Survivor loved, but that couldn’t be the case. As far as he knew they had only met a few nights ago and they had barely spoken. Yes they had kissed - _oh God, that kiss_ \- but that wasn’t enough to be making declarations of love. Nothing was making sense.

She had the horrible feeling that everyone was staring at her. She closed her eyes and shook her head, hoping to shake off whatever daydream she was currently living in. She opened her eyes and looked right into Snow’s eyes. They were full of pity and sympathy and concern. She shouldn’t have opened her eyes.

It was a terrible, terrible idea, but Emma had to ask, had to know what was happening between The Survivor and Regina that she didn’t understand. “What’s -” she started hesitantly, “what’s going on with Emma Swan? What’s she got to do with the Dark One?”

“Nothing.” The Survivor answered immediately and decisively, looking more than a little guilty.

Regina regarded him with suspicion, before turning her attention to Emma. “Emma Swan works for me. When The Survivor and I met the other night to -” Regina searched for a delicate way to describe his attempts to seduce her into heroism, “- discuss joining forces -” Emma grimaced and felt a little sick at the thought. “Emma Swan interrupted us and The Survivor left with her. I don’t really know what their relationship might be -”

“I told you, Regina, there is nothing between Emma and I. We are not together.” The Survivor cut Regina’s gossip short curtly. He looked mortified and glared meaningfully at Regina. “I wished to see her home safely, but nothing happened. I have no desire to be with her.”

Emma was dimly aware of the lights flickering around her, but she felt strangely empty. Her heart had still been torn between The Survivor and Killian, but The Survivor had seemed like the better option - the _safer_ option. He was someone she could love without fearing for his safety at all times. And yet, here he was saying that he didn’t want to be with her. Or at least a part of her, the average part that was nothing special and nobody wanted. Why would a superhero like The Survivor be any different? Not that he knew that Emma and The Saviour were one and the same, and she certainly wasn't going to tell him that now.

She knew people were still talking, but she couldn’t hear anything, she couldn’t see anything. There was a mess of emotions and energy simmering inside her and if she wasn’t careful, if she didn’t focus on shutting everything down, she was going to explode.

“I agree that Emma Swan needs safeguarding. She has been seen with me, under my protection, that makes her a target. That does not, however, make her anything to me.” The Survivor’s words were breezy, his delivery detached.

If Emma had been paying attention she might have noticed her lie detector going off. She might have seen the desperate look The Survivor sent her way, imploring her to understand. She might have seen the incredulous way Regina stared at him and shook her head in disapproval.

She was desperate to run away from all of her confused feelings. Almost without thinking she stood up.

“I just need a minute.” She announced, “got to - use the bathroom.”

She ran down the corridor, turned a corner and just slumped down against the wall, unsure what she was thinking or feeling. Not knowing how to deal with any of this. Her magic was radiating off her in waves. She curled her arms around her legs, letting her head fall onto her knees.

“Are you alright, love?” She looked up into the concerned eyes of The Survivor, crouched down to her level.

_Why the fuck do you always have to make sure I’m ok?_

“Just fine, Hook, now go away.” The lights in the corridor flashed on and off as she spat out her words. He rocked back on his heels as if she had struck him, gazing at her the whole time like a wounded puppy.

“Love, you have to know that Emma Swan isn’t -” She gritted her teeth, feeling sparks flying across her skin and squeezed her eyes shut. She needed to block him out, just for a minute, so she could get her feelings under control.

In the next moment she felt lips brush against her own. Her eyes flew open in shock and she shoved The Survivor away from her forcefully. As he crashed against the opposite wall, she heard the sound of the light closest to them shattering and the corridor was temporarily plunged into darkness before the emergency lighting kicked in.

She scrambled to her feet, backing away from The Survivor, who looked up at her warily.

“What the fuck was that?” She shouted when she remembered how to speak.

“I just needed you to know that -”

“That what, _Hook_ ?” His eyes flashed at her repeated use of his villainous title, she knew she was being cruel, but she couldn’t help but lash out. “That Emma Swan means nothing? You think I don’t know that? I know that you kissed her and that you only just met her so I know she’s not the ‘ _woman you love_ ’. Fuck, how many -”

“You know Emma?” The Survivor cut in. He sounded, well, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Guilty, maybe?

“You could say that.”

“And she told _you_ that we kissed?” Again, she  found herself frustrated at her inability to get a read on what he was feeling.

“Yeah, I know what happened. I know that you met her the night of your date with Regina, I know that you kissed.” She took a breath, “and I also know that she isn’t involved with anyone, so she can’t be your _angel_ that you’re so desperate to protect from The Dark One -”

“What are you talking about?” He sounded exasperated.

“When you first joined us it was all for the love of some ‘angel’ who deserved a better man, who made you want to be a hero.”

“If you can know her in your real life, don’t you think I can, too?” He practically snarled the words at her. He suddenly stopped talking, a look of fear and horror passing over his face. Was he only just realising that he was about to say far too much about his secret identity? Or did he remember he was apparently here to convince The Saviour that he wanted her?

Either way, Emma was shocked. It had never once occurred to her that she could have met The Survivor in her everyday life. She was sure that she would know him at once if she did. This was just some kind of cruel game he was playing. That was all men ever did with her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m confused, Hook. A minute ago I could’ve sworn you were trying to persuade me that she was just some girl who happened to get on the wrong side of your lips. But what? Is she actually the woman of your dreams? You’re so madly in love with her that you’re desperate to defeat The Dark One so that you can finally be together?” She was hissing out her words, every one dripping with venom and disdain.

“I never said that, love.” His words were quiet, his eyes were conflicted.

“What do you want, Hook?”

He grabbed her by the shoulders, waiting until she looked him in the eyes to answer her, “I don’t want Emma Swan, love. I only want you.”

Emma could feel her eyes welling with tears. She never thought a romantic declaration could cause her so much pain. But here he was, rejecting her, even while he thought he was offering himself to her. He didn’t love every part of her, and that wasn’t a compromise she could accept.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself to give the answer that she knew would hurt them both. “Well, I’m sorry, Hook, but I don’t want you.”

He looked devastated.

While the part of her that was still smarting from his words was grinning at the accomplishment, the larger part of her just wanted to soothe his pain. But how could she do that? Even allowing herself to feel something for this man had been a huge step for her. Giving herself  permission to consider that perhaps he was worth trusting with her heart had been agonising. But if he wouldn’t have her vulnerabilities, he couldn’t have her strengths either.

If there was a part of her that knew how deeply unfair it was to suggest that was the situation, she was ignoring it. If she would only let herself consider that he had, in fact expressed a desire for both the woman Emma Swan and the superhero The Saviour, it might strike her that he probably was the perfect man for her. He clearly did love every part of her: he just didn’t know they were one and the same. And when she wouldn’t enlighten him, how else could he respond? If she were to really think about it, she might realise she’d just set him up to fail, she might wonder at how much she could hurt someone she loved She might have finally given love a chance.

But Emma had never been great at dealing with her feelings. Her tentative consideration that choosing The Survivor was the right course was tenuous at best so running away from it, from him, at the first sign of trouble was the only thing that made sense to her.

The air between them was thick with tension. Neither had spoken since her declaration. She saw the moment he gave up on her in his eyes - they went from hurt to hard as his jaw clenched. He turned and stormed away from her before she could say anything further.

She watched him leave, panting as she desperately tried to calm herself before she caused even more destruction. Belle was already going to be furious about the lights, it looked like there might be some scorch marks along the walls and possibly a dent from where her magic had blasted The Survivor away from her. She really hoped she hadn’t hurt him.

 _You can’t hurt him,_ the needling voice within supplied, _not physically anyway._

She latched onto how much it had hurt her to hear him say, to her face, “I don’t want Emma Swan”. She clung to the pain and the fury and made a decision. Maybe she shouldn’t be with Killian for his safety, but when he came over the following night for Netflix she was going to call him out on his innuendo and ask him for that side order of “chill” he’d always promised.

***

Killian stumbled back towards the gathered Nevengers, his head spinning and his heart hurting.

For all the anguish that he had experienced over the past few days since his kiss with Emma, he really thought that the worst was over. Just being near The Saviour could usually soothe his soul and he thought that when he finally got a chance to talk to her everything would get easier.

He had never expected her to turn him down like that. But then, he hadn’t planned on offering his heart to The Saviour in the first place.

And that was the worst part of it all: however badly she hurt him, some part of him understood The Saviour. He had seen the way her eyes had flashed with betrayal every time he mentioned Emma’s name. And why wouldn’t they? He had blurted out he was in love with Emma then tried to convince The Saviour to give him a chance. This surely went beyond bad form and straight into outright cruel.

 _A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets._ His brother’s oft-repeated mantra came into his mind. The problem is, he couldn’t tell you what - or, more to the point, who - he wanted.

Had he chosen The Saviour because he truly wanted her or was she just his consolation prize because he couldn’t have Emma?

He was confused but one thing became clear: he needed to defeat The Dark One. And quickly. He vowed there and then that as soon as Gold was gone he would come clean to both The Saviour and Emma about who he really was. Because any relationship he had with either now would be rooted in lies and built upon half-truths, and he wasn’t sure love would be enough for such shaky foundations.

He reached the door to the main room of headquarters and took a deep breath. He allowed his old Hook persona to wash over him. He could feel the innuendos seeping into his pores, the false bravado steeling him and filling him with the courage he needed to face his friends.

He stepped into the room and grinned, “The Saviour needs a minute, Regina, I’m sure she won’t mind if you continue without her.”

He tried to avoid the looks everyone gave him. Snow’s crestfallen look of pain at dashed hopes and lost love, Belle’s wide eyed sympathy, Tina’s disappointed frown at his studied detachment, Henry’s despondent and uncomfortable look at the events that just transpired and David’s angry glare at the hurt he caused The Saviour.

At least he had Regina with her pursed lips and raised brow delivering her trademark air of bored displeasure to distract him. After all, he was used to seeing this reaction to just about everything he did from her.

He settled into his chair languidly and nodded to Regina, “come on now, Your Majesty, we have a dastardly villain to defeat.”

“Quite. Well before you and The Saviour _needed a minute_ I was about to explain these blueprints.”

Killian opened his mouth to argue that it was Regina’s endless talking around the subject of the blueprints that caused the whole bloody mess in the first place. But then he saw The Saviour slink back into the room. Without looking at him once she grabbed her chair - the one by his side - and pulled it further away from him before slumping down into it. He had the unpleasant feeling that she had been crying. Normally he would’ve reached out and taken her hand to comfort her in these circumstances, but she had deliberately placed herself out of his reach.

He wanted to be mad at her. She was the one who had rejected him, after all. And yet, she had pulled her knees up to her chest and curled around them like a little girl - just like when he had discovered her when he chased after her - and his heart broke for her.

 _Your heart’s broken because of her,_ hissed the devil inside him, but there was no heat behind the words.

Too late Killian realised that Regina had continued to speak. “- The Dagger. It was an accidental creation in his experiments that gave him his powers. The Dagger can control him -”

“What?” Killian interjected, startled by what he thought Regina was suggesting. Could there really be a way to control The Dark One? His lips curled into a terrible smirk of dangerous glee.

Regina huffed at the interruption, her eyes flashing at Killian. “The Dagger is a device that can control The Dark One. His powers are tethered to it -”

“So why would he want to make another? Seems a fucking stupid idea to me.” Henry cut in this time, Killian was annoyed to note that Regina didn’t even flinch at the teenager, even smiling indulgently at him. “Well, it is, isn’t it?” Henry looked around for support, “dumb, I mean? Why create more of an object that gives other people power over you?”

“He’s not trying to give anyone else power over him, Henry,” Regina explained, “he’s trying to modify The Dagger so it can control others.”

All of The Nevengers were clearly startled by the revelation. Except perhaps Belle, whose eyes glistened with sadness, disappointment and grim resignation. Killian’s jaw clenched. He at least was not shocked, he expected nothing less of his former employer.

“Which others?” tentatively asked Snow at last.

“All others,” declared Regina grimly. “He wants the entire world at his mercy. Superheroes included.”

“Bloody hell” breathed out Killian, feeling the full horror of such an idea. He could feel terror grip his heart as he thought of all the terrible things he had done as a lieutenant in Gold’s private army. Back when he thought he was somehow fighting the good fight by working for the most eminent philanthropist in the city. And in those days, Gold had still been something like a man with some sense of right and wrong - however twisted. Now he was more reptile than human there was no knowing what he might make them all do.

As he looked around at the Nevengers; every single one had a matching look of fear in their eyes at the prospect of life under The Dark One’s control. Whatever it took, they had to stop this, before Gold brought the world to its knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Let me know here or on tumblr @katie-dub


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****  
>    
>  _Previously on The Masks We Wear_   
>    
>  _Emma Swan AKA The Saviour and Killian Jones AKA Hook AKA The Survivor are in love. They just don’t know it yet. A series of unfortunate events led to The Saviour rejecting The Survivor’s advances, leaving them both in turmoil. But right now they’ve got bigger fish to fry. The Evil Queen has revealed that The Dark One intends to control the world using The Dagger and they need to stop him before it’s too late …_   
>  _“Well, I’m sorry, Hook, but I don’t want you.”_   
>  _“When Killian came over the following night for Netflix she was going to call him out on his innuendo and ask him for that side order of “chill” he’d always promised.”_   
>  _“He had blurted out he was in love with Emma then tried to convince The Saviour to give him a chance.”_   
>  _“The Dark One wants the entire world at his mercy. Superheroes included.”_

_ I don’t want Emma Swan... I don’t want Emma Swan... I don’t want Emma Swan... _

The words echoed through Emma’s head. She had to concentrate hard on not feeling anything, on keeping her magic under control and at bay. The effort was overwhelming her and the rest of the meeting with Regina was passing her by in a haze.

“We’re agreed,” Regina said, “the day after tomorrow, Hook and I will infiltrate Gold’s labs to -”

“Wait, what?” Emma’s head shot up. The lights blinked around her, Regina looked unimpressed at her reaction.

“Decided to participate now, have we Saviour?” Regina’s lips were pursed and her eyebrows raised in irritation. 

Emma had seen that look on her face a million times, it was almost always followed by a terse  _ Miss Swan _ , Emma  _ hated _ when Regina called her that - but at least Regina didn’t know who she was to do that this time. 

“If you’d paid any attention to what was going on you’d know that only two of us can go into Gold’s. We’ve only got two cuffs to protect us from Gold’s security system that includes special modules that interfere with our powers. I have to be one because I’m your ticket in, we agreed that Hook would be the other.”

“Why him? I have magic! What’s he’s got?!” Emma was unbelievably pissed, whatever way she looked at it, sending Hook into Gold’s territory did not seem like the best course of action.

“I’m a highly trained fighter with an inside understanding of the way Gold’s security forces work.” Hook interjected, clenching his jaw. “Not to mention that I’m a damn sight harder to kill than your  _ charming  _ self, Saviour” His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he glared at her.

“I think this is a terrible plan.” She barrelled on, ignoring Hook’s words and trying not to focus on the way the thought of something bad happening to him made her skin crawl. It was ridiculous really, the man was invulnerable, what did she expect to happen?

“Saviour, we all can see that you’re … concerned for The Survivor’s safety -” Snow began tentatively.

“I’m not concerned!” Emma lolled back against her chair in an attempt at looking casual. The chair tipped back further than she expected and sparks flew from her hands as she struggled to right herself. Hook snorted derisively and she shot him a dirty look before settling back in her chair again. “I’m not.”

“Right. Well, Regina has magic, too, you know. If The Survivor goes with her they’ve got two different skillsets to call upon, both know Gold intimately -”

“I wouldn’t say  _ intimately, _ lass, although I believe Regina would.” Hook cut in, grimacing at the thought. 

Emma caught Belle’s eye right at that moment and was a little startled to note that she seemed somehow distressed, possibly even a little jealous? She shook her head, certain she must be reading something into The Librarian’s expression that wasn’t really there.

“What I’m trying to say is they are the best pair for the job.”

Emma opened her mouth to argue with Snow’s words, but Snow fixed her with a look that plainly said that the decision was final. So instead she slunk down in her chair again and watched the clock, counting down the minutes until she could escape.

Once the time came she magicked herself from HQ straight into her apartment. Childish though it may be, she was keen to avoid the dual threat of Snow and The Survivor. She was in no mood for either the hope speech she could clearly see that Snow was dying to give or round two of that horrible conversation with The Survivor.

She was in bed before it occurred to her that The Survivor actually hadn’t seemed to much want to talk to her either. While part of her knew she probably deserved that for hurting him, it still made her heart clench painfully. 

She went to sleep reassuring herself that her righteous indignation was justified. She punched down the part of her who hissed that she should have unmasked herself with that heartbreaking refrain  _ I don’t want Emma Swan  _ playing out on repeat in her head.

Emma didn’t really get a chance to talk to Killian all the next day, although she caught sight of him looking tired and sad. Even from a distance she could tell that the nightmares that had been haunting him for weeks were clearly still rearing their ugly head. She frowned, wondering why her presence in his life, once apparently the cure to his sleepless nights, was no longer enough.

_ He just needs to get laid, _ she told herself shaking off the thought,  _ and I know just the woman for the job. _

She didn’t want to think too much about that though. She knew if she examined her plans too closely she’d realise their many fatal flaws. Killian deserved better than some kind of revenge bang for one. She wasn’t sure if her confused heart could cope with intimate knowledge of her best friend, for another.

Instead, she threw herself into her work.

 

That evening she fluttered around her apartment, cleaning everything before Killian showed up, and fussing over what to wear. Should she dress casual with her sexiest lingerie - or maybe nothing at all - on underneath?  _ It would save some time _ . Dress up like it was a hot date and blow Killian away? Perhaps answer the door in just said sexy lingerie? (It would get the point across straight away and might save all that awkward seduction she’d otherwise have to do.)

Eventually she settled on slinky leggings - tight enough to show off her figure but casual enough to not raise alarm bells - and a deceptively low cut top that had an annoying habit of gaping open to reveal her bra when she lounged on the sofa. (If said bra was a bright red silky number that was practically guaranteed to make Killian’s eyes pop out of his head like a cartoon character, all the better.)

The look of utter defeat on Killian’s face when she finally opened the door to him an hour later made her instantly banish all seductive thoughts from her head.

He was leaning against the wall opposite her door in a mockery of his usual insouciant pose, he seemed to need the solid surface to keep him upright. From a distance he had looked a little off, but up close she could see the dark shadows hanging heavy below his bloodshot eyes. His smile was tinged with a deep melancholy that she couldn’t understand.

A little devil inside whispered that he was a man clearly in desperate need of a little fun, but her inner angel silenced them with a withering glare.

“Gonna hang around outside all day, Jones?”

He pushed off the wall agonisingly slowly and stumbled over to the door. She grasped his hand as he reached her, searching his face for some clue that could explain why he was like this. She couldn’t help but send a wave of healing magic through her touch, and his face instantly softened. He surprised her by throwing his arms around her and pulling her in tight for a hug. While she held him she focussed on soothing him with her magic. She could feel the tension melting away from him. When he eventually pulled back he looked at least marginally more like his usual self.

“Well, Swan, are you ready for our Tuesday night Netflix and  _ chill  _ session?” He asked, running his tongue across his lips in a cartoon version of flirtation. It was almost enough for her to decide the seduction was back on. Almost. But she knew him too well. She could see his tired eyes peering out from behind his mask of bravado and sex. It just wasn’t the time.

“Please,” she replied, raising her eyes in challenge. If he wanted to paper over the cracks in his mood with flirting, she could live with that. It was just a bit of harmless fun. “You couldn’t handle it.”

“Perhaps  _ you’re _ the one who couldn’t handle  _ it _ .” His voice dripped with suggestion, oozed with the promise of sinful delight. But his eyes hadn't quite got the memo and underneath it all, he looked like a lost boy. It was torture. Emma’s silky bra rubbed against her skin and she felt uncomfortably hot. 

This was all wrong. 

She told herself she just needed a good fuck, just wanted a way to feel better, but being with him could never be just that to her. She wanted to make love to him and now? Now she didn’t know how to feel or what to think.

Fuck. 

Her traitorous mind started playing out scenes of her exs’ deaths. The way The Huntsman had collapsed against her. The best version of Neal - the one who had really loved her - begging her to kill him before his worst self destroyed them all. Walsh coming at her all fangs and claws, ready to attack. She conjured up a vision of Killian lifeless on the ground. She was cursed and if she let herself have this thing with him that vision would almost certainly come true.

Her mind was reeling, her chest felt tight and her skin was starting to itch. Her magic was going to start acting up if she wasn’t careful.

“I meant no offence, Swan.” Killian’s voice was small again, his swagger gone.

Emma hadn’t noticed how long she was taking to reply. She was startled by her own realisations and lost in the anxiety that they induced. She couldn’t play along with Killian’s flirtations - not tonight - but hopefully she could do something better. Hopefully she could take care of him and help him to actually feel whole again.

“It’ll take more than that to offend me, Jones. Now, come inside -” She lifted a finger in warning. “And don’t you dare turn that into an innuendo.”

“Swan, I don’t know what you mean.” Killian’s face was all innocence, his smile was back. “But it sounds like you’re the one with the dirty mind around here tonight.” 

She rolled her eyes at him then headed straight for her fridge, trusting him to simply follow her. She pointed at the bar stools that were lined up against her kitchen counter. “Sit.”

“As you wish.” Killian made a sweeping bow, before hopping onto a bar stool. She could feel him watching her pulling things from the fridge with suspicion. “Although, I’ll be honest with you, Swan, you cooking makes me nervous.”

Emma spun around, a bag of salad in hand, unable to let this sleight go. “One time you were sick after I cooked for you! Once! And you thought that stew was delicious!”

“Aye, you’re right, but I thought the food poisoning that came after was a lesson: never trust Emma Swan with food.”

“I can  _ so  _ be trusted with food!”

“Remember when you burnt the pop tarts?”

“Look, anyone can attempt to cook when they’re drunk and make a simple mistake.” Emma fumed at him, while smiling inside at the return of her Killian. 

He tilted his head and cocked one eyebrow at her, twisting his mouth as though highly uncertain of her words. “I’m not sure that reheating pop tarts classes as  _ cooking _ , love.”

“OK, OK, stop with the ‘Emma Swan can’t cook’ routine,” Emma laughed, raising her hands in surrender. “We both know that you’re the best chef around, but I want to take care of you for once. There’s some of that mac and cheese you made last week in the freezer, so you don’t have to worry about a thing.” She stopped her preparations and looked at Killian pointedly. “You do trust me to open a bag of salad, right?”

Killian was smiling at her softly, gazing at her with something that felt a lot like adoration. Her heart squeezed a little at the sight. Maybe she could do this with him? Maybe she should just tell him the truth about her alter ego and let him decide if he could handle the risk?

“You want to take care of me?” His voice was so soft and hopeful, it was enough to make her heart melt. And suddenly she remembered what being with her could mean for him. She had to take care of him, to protect him and that meant keeping him at arm’s length, however much she might want to hold him closer.

“Of course, Jones, don’t forget I saw you trip up those stairs the day we met. Who knows what kind of havoc you could cause if left to your own devices?”

She turned back to prepping their dinner, ignoring the sharp pang in her heart.

 

It was much later that night and they were watching Iron Fist and drinking some beers. Killian loved all the Marvel stuff, and Emma had to admit, she got a bit of a kick out of watching what people thought superheroes did all day. She did note how not one of them had a boring desk job. 

_ So unrealistic _ , she thought with a smile.

Killian was sat at the other end of the couch and she longed to snuggle up to him but thought that it was safer if she stayed further away from him. Not that he seemed overly upset about that. He hadn’t even attempted to pull her into his arms like he would normally. In fact, all night despite his friendly banter, he had seemed different somehow. Just distant, as if he had something on his mind. She fiddled with the label on her beer bottle wondering about what could have happened. Were his nightmares really so bad that they were affecting his personality?

The episode had reached a climactic chase. Danny Rand had somehow lost a team of trained assassins just by covering his face with a mask. Nevermind that he was still wearing the same shabby hippy clothes that looked like they would be smelt a mile off. Emma wasn’t one to judge - her own grand disguise was little more than a mask too - but she at least wore different clothes. And she put her hair up. She carried herself differently as The Saviour too. It was practically a foolproof disguise compared to Danny’s attempt. She scoffed at the screen without thinking.

“What’s up, Swan?”

She placed her beer down on the coffee table  before gesturing to the screen in disbelief. “We’re meant to believe that mask fooled all those people? I mean, seriously?!”

“People don’t see what they don’t want to, love.” Killian answered sadly. Emma was confused, she wasn’t sure that her mockery deserved such a somber response. (And there was something very familiar about his words. Had she heard them before?)

“You’re saying I wouldn’t recognise you with a mask on?”

Killian’s smile didn’t reach his eyes when he replied. “I’m saying that you would see exactly who you wanted to see.”

Emma didn’t understand what he meant, was he somehow upset with her? She tried to lighten the mood with a teasing reply. “You’re saying that I wouldn’t want you with your devilishly handsome face covered up?”

He sighed and looked weary. “Quite the opposite in fact, love.”

Emma cocked her head at him, studying him for a clue as to what was wrong. “Have I upset you somehow, Killian?” He shook his head in reply. “So, what’s wrong?”

“Not a thing, love.”

_ Lie. _

“You know I have a superpower, right?” Emma grinned with delight at the way Killian’s eyes widened. “I know when people are lying to me. Now, fess up. You’ve been kind of off all evening. Is this about your nightmares again?”

“That’s - that’s part of it.” Killian broke off and took a deep breath. He looked up at her uncertainly. “But it’s also about you.”

“Me?” Emma squeaked out the word, her heart pounding as her mind ran through worst case scenario after worst case scenario in her head.

He shifted closer to her, and took her hands in his. “Emma, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” His eyes darted between hers, he looked quite frantic, pleading with her for something.

“You don’t have to find out, Killian, I’m right here.” She tried to brush his words off, but he was so sincere that she had to take him seriously. “I mean it. You’re my best friend and I’m not going to leave you to go through … whatever this is, alone.” Somehow it felt wrong to say nothing more than that, her inner angel and devil joining up to scold her for not just saying those three little words.

“You - you -” Killian gasped, sounding like he was choking back a sob. 

Emma felt quite alarmed, closing the space between them and pulling him into her arms in an instant. She soothed him with a hand rubbing his back gently, with her healing magic, with a soft shush. 

He clutched her tight. “If anything ever happened to you, love, I would never forgive myself.”

She thought of all her anguish not a few hours earlier, when she had imagined the terrible way in which he might die. “I wouldn’t cope if anything happened to you either.”

To her surprise he actually laughed at that, pulling back to look her straight in the eyes. “You don’t have to worry about that. Nothing’s going to happen to me, love, I’m Th-” He broke off suddenly, and finished lamely. “I’m pretty tough.”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of her Killian - the clumsy, softly spoken British gent - as tough.

“Oi! Don’t you know it’s rude to laugh at a man’s … manliness?”

This sent Emma into absolute fits of giggles.

“You’re asking for it, Swan. I’m warning you!”

“What are you going to do? Send your manliness to get me?”

He pounced on her then, tickling her mercilessly, until somehow he was lying on top of her while she squirmed beneath. He seemed to realise their close position at the same time as she did, instantly stopping his assault. They were both panting, their lips mere inches apart, the tension between them was palpable. It was too much for Emma to resist.

So she didn’t even try. She pulled Killian down to her and brushed her lips against his softly. 

He pulled back hard, springing from her as if burnt. For a moment, Emma wondered if somehow she had actually pricked him with her magic, so extreme was his reaction. But then it sunk in: he just didn’t want her.

“What - what are you doing?” Killian’s voice was high pitched and broke a little as he spoke. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“I - I’m sorry. I was feeling good and it just seemed … right?” Emma was so confused and so unsure. How had she misread the situation so badly?

Killian jumped to his feet, stumbling slightly in his haste to get away from her. Emma sat back, stunned.

“I - I don’t think - um, no. Let’s just - I’ve got to go.” He was over by the door before he’d even finished speaking. He yanked open her door and sprinted through, slamming it behind him without looking back at her once.

It took her a long time to make sense of what had just happened. She felt numb. She’d been rejected twice in as many days, by both the men she loved and the latest guy was her best friend. Her best-fucking-friend. She could never talk to him again. She’d have to get another job. In fact, her magic was thrumming in her veins and telling her to just  _ move _ . Run far, far away. Never look back. She just couldn’t stay. What the fuck? What was she thinking?

“FUCK!” She bellowed, allowing herself a moment to lose control. Their discarded beer bottles on the table shattered instantly. She panted at the exertion, feeling slightly better even as her heart crumpled in on itself. Where had it all gone so wrong?

***

Killian crashed through the door to his flat and headed straight for the kitchen cupboard where he knew a mostly-full bottle of rum was waiting for him. He had been avoiding getting smashed while everything with Gold was so uncertain, but he knew that there was no way he was going to sleep tonight without high levels of alcohol dulling his senses.

He fumbled around, nearly sending some bottles flying, before finding what he needed. He pulled it open and drank straight from the bottle. The burn as it slid down his throat was exactly what he needed right now. 

He stumbled over to his couch and collapsed onto it. He swigged more rum before slamming it down on the coffee table harder than he meant to. He winced, hoping he hadn’t dented the table. He didn’t exactly have super strength, but his fists packed a lot more punch than the average man. It wouldn’t be the first time his furniture had got on the wrong end of his temper and wound up worse off for it. 

He dropped his face into his hands, wondering where everything had gone wrong.

He had thought that yesterday was going to be his low point - pursuing The Saviour while full of anxiety over Emma’s fate and getting rightly rejected. But this? Needing to push Emma away, even while he could feel her lips against his? This was excruciating torture.

But he had to do it. The second her lips touched his he was hit with the image of her lifeless and broken. He couldn’t help but leap from her, that horrible vision was like a shot straight to his heart. He could never begin to explain his fears without revealing who he was and why they could never be together.

He had come so close to telling her accidentally. She had looked so scared and sad when she had said that she wouldn’t cope if anything were to happen to him. The idea was so ridiculous - he had forgotten what it was like to worry about flesh wounds - that he had openly laughed at that. If he felt like an asshole for laughing at her feelings then, it was nothing compared to how she’d looked as he had rejected her.

Perhaps he should have come clean then. Maybe if she knew who he really was, she would understand why they couldn’t be together. 

He sighed. He knew his Emma so well that he knew that was wishful thinking. She was always so adamant that she didn’t do relationships that for her to kiss him meant so much. His heart clenched at the thought. She wanted something with him. Something real. That had to be what that kiss had meant to her. 

He took a long drink from his bottle as the full weight of his actions hit him. Emma Swan, his brave, strong best friend had taken a leap and he hadn’t caught her. Even if he had explained himself, explained his reasons, it all would amount to the same thing for her: he wasn’t choosing her, just like everyone that came before him.

For a brief moment, he wanted to go back to her. To beg her forgiveness and explain everything. To tell her that he would always, always choose her and that this was all to protect her.

The thought of The Saviour rose up in his mind, taunting him, reminding him that Emma didn’t own his heart outright.

_ Fuck. _

First he had to defeat The Dark One, then he could find a way to fix his broken heart.

 

He woke in the morning on his couch. He had drunk himself to sleep and probably had the best night’s sleep he’d had in days: the booze had thankfully allowed him a dreamless sleep. He couldn’t exactly say he felt refreshed, but he had at least been unconscious for several hours.

In the days since that first nightmare he hadn’t been so lucky. Every time he so much as nodded off his brain had dreamt up new ways for Emma to die. It was always somehow his fault: he was incompetent, he put her in harm’s way, he couldn’t save her. Over and over again.

He wondered if this was what losing his mind felt like.

Usually he could look forward to seeing Emma to ease his suffering. He was a broken man, but around her he felt whole again. Just a smile lifted his mood, her voice eased his troubles and when she touched him he instantly felt at peace. 

And today he would have to avoid her - or worse, watch as she avoided him. Tonight he was raiding Gold’s lab with Regina and he really needed to be around Emma so he could feel mentally and emotionally prepared. 

But he wouldn’t force his presence on her when he knew it would cause her pain. He wasn’t selfish enough to hurt her like that, however anxious not seeing her made him feel. He just had to hope that she would come to him, even while he knew she wouldn’t. 

It gave him a strong sense of foreboding about his mission, but he knew it was the right thing to do. It was the first step towards accomplishing his goal.

 

He didn’t see Emma all day. He knew it was for the best, but he knew this was the work of some grade A avoidance on her part and that stung. He didn’t like to think of her rebuilding her walls against him, even if he deserved it.

He had just stepped into the elevator to leave for the day when he heard her calling, “hold the door!” For a split second he considered just pressing the close doors button instead, he couldn’t imagine she’d have spoken up if she’d known he was in there. He wasn’t that petty though.

She stepped in and he saw the exact moment she had realised her mistake, eyes widening with shock, however quickly her expression morphed into cold detachment.

As the elevator started to move there was a moment of sheer tension, the air was heavy and claustrophobic. He could hear Emma taking deep breaths, he hated that his presence was causing her such distress. He turned, as he so often did at times like this, to his Hook persona, all bravado and false confidence.

“Going to wish me luck, love?”

She whirled around, eyes flashing alarmingly, the green suddenly glowing, albeit only for a second. “Why?” she snarled. “Got a hot date?”

_ Perhaps,  _ whispered a voice inside. He ignored it. “Nope. I’m just going to save the world.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, Killian.” He knew from her tone that all was not forgiven, but she was still talking to him so he took it as a win. “You can barely stay upright half the time, but the fate of the world rests in your hands.”

He’d be upset by that, but he was deliberately clumsy in his normal life. Who would suspect Killian Jones who trips over his own feet of being a superhero? Emma would likely laugh at the very thought.

“Your faith in me is truly inspiring, I’ll remember to thank you personally when I accept all the bravery awards and special commendations that are thrown my way.” She scoffed, shaking her head at him in disbelief. “I’d like to thank Emma Swan,” he began jokingly, before realising that this was his chance to show her at least some of what she really meant to him. “For always being there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. For making me want to be a better man, so that I could be the hero she needs. But most of all,” he paused, noting the way her breath had caught and her eyes softened. “I’d like to thank Emma Swan for being my friend, for caring for me truly and for making a broken man whole again.” There were tears shining in her eyes, he stepped closer to comfort her, but she moved back. Of course. Pretty words were one thing, but she always preferred action. “I couldn’t have saved you all without her.” He finished, waving to an imaginary crowd.

“Nice speech.”

“Yeah?” He studied her, looking for any clue as to how she might be feeling. He could tell she was softening to him against better judgement. That was enough, he wouldn’t push her more tonight. 

The elevator dinged and the doors flew open. She relaxed almost imperceptibly and Killian knew leaving it was the right thing to do. She rushed out, then glanced back, “Good luck saving the world, Jones.” Killian smiled to himself. He wasn’t forgiven yet, but he would be.

 

When Killian set out later, his confidence was restored and he felt a thrill at finally starting to take on Gold. It had been a long time since he had felt the lust for revenge that initially drove him to embracing villainy. While it hadn’t exactly returned, he couldn’t deny that his heart beat a little faster in anticipation of getting justice for Milah at last.

Regina was dressed in her usual elaborate get up, complete with an ostentatious necklace and a diamond crusted mask. He looked her up and down with distaste. “I thought this was a  _ secret  _ mission, Regina.”

“This is how The Evil Queen dresses, Hook, you think I can walk in there in a hoodie and not raise a few eyebrows?”

“Borrowing The Hood’s clothes already, Regina? My haven’t you two moved fast?” 

Regina blushed, but stood her ground. “Jealous, Hook? Seems like you’ve struck out with both  Emma Swan and The Saviour. Tell me: what exactly did you do to our superpowered friend to upset her so much? Besides the obvious admission of love for another woman of course?”

Killian gritted his teeth and glared at Regina. She always did have a knack for exploiting sore spots in pursuit of a witty line. “Much as I’d love to gossip with you about my love life, your evilness, I think it best if we get to work on saving the world, don’t you?”

Regina shook her head. “So touchy. But you’re right. Here, take your cuff.” She passed him a plain, chunky wristband. It looked quite unremarkable, but Killian knew from experience that Gold was a master of deception. “Remember to keep it on at all times. Can’t have you dying on us now, Hook.”

“Oh Regina, love, I didn’t know you cared!”

“If I don’t bring you back in one piece, The Saviour will cut  _ me  _ into pieces. You’ve seen my clothes, Hook, blood does not mix well with high fashion.”

Killian laughed - it was nice to know that Regina could make statements as cutting about herself as she did about everyone else.

With their cuffs firmly in place, Regina lead Killian to a side entrance and they crept inside. Slowly they made their way through the building, Regina striding confidently along while he slunk by her side, warily looking around for guards. The guards that never came.

After several corridors passed with no sign of life, Killian started to feel suspicious. “Where is everyone?” He hissed at Regina.

“Anxious to get caught? Look it must be The Author’s work, he said he’d create a diversion.” She whispered back.

Her words made sense. Still, with every corner they turned without seeing a soul and every corridor they travelled unimpeded, Killian’s sense of dread grew. He was tense, ready for an ambush that had yet to happen.

When they rounded a corner and Killian could see a clear path to the labs up ahead, he knew something was very, very wrong.

“Regina, I think something’s gone wrong. We need to go.” He had stopped dead, but Regina kept on walking, not even glancing in his direction.

“When we’re so close to our goal? Don’t be ridiculous, Hook.”

He reached out and grabbed hold of her hand. She stopped, turning to face him with a sigh. “I’m serious, I’ve never known Gold to have such lax security in place. I don’t care how good The Author is, there is no way the guards on Gold’s lab would have abandoned their posts!”

“Maybe they just don’t have the same work ethic as you, Hook?”

“Or maybe we’re walking into a bloody trap!” He pulled her hand urgently, meaning to go back the way they came, only to be confronted by two guards.

“Bingo! You guessed right, Hook!” Killian stiffened at the sound of the shrill voice.  _ The Dark One _ . Gold’s voice always took on an otherworldly manic edge when his psychotic alter ego took control of him. It made Killian’s skin crawl.

He slowly turned back to face his foe, keeping tight hold of Regina’s hand, and placing himself between her and Gold. He knew she was more than capable of holding her own, but his belief in good form would always win out over self-preservation.

“Wellll, you’re  _ almost _ right,” Gold sang out, “it was only you who walked into a trap. Technically, she,” he pointed to Regina, “led you into one.”

Killian dropped Regina’s hand as he looked at her. She stared down at the ground, looking ashamed. That she didn’t speak in her own defence told him everything he needed to know.

“I must say Hook this is quite disappointing. All these years we’ve been adversaries I rather thought you might be harder to catch. If I had known all I had to do was send in someone with remarkable  _ assets _ .” Gold leered at Regina’s bosom and Killian grimaced at the implication. “Well, I might have caught you years ago. Now, run along Regina and tell no one of what happened here.” 

Regina obediently turned around and walked away. Killian gaped at her retreating form. “Aren’t you even going to take payment for my life,  _ Your Majesty _ ?”

Gold giggled with delight. “Oh, she didn’t do this  _ willingly _ , don’t be ridiculous! She really wants to be  _ good _ .” He spat out the word, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “I can’t see why, seems so dull. But it has made her the perfect subject for my experiments with The Dagger. I think you’ll agree that the results are quite impressive. She is totally under my control.”

With every word Gold spoke Killian felt more and more disturbed. Every inch of his skin tingled unpleasantly, and he felt physically ill at the thought of a woman being forced to do anything against her will. 

It lit a fire within him. He clenched his jaw, and his nostrils flared as he thought of Milah, and the years of abuse she suffered at Gold’s hand. He thought of The Librarian and the tales she had told him of her doomed affair with Gold. He thought of Emma Swan and The Saviour and what their lives would become if Gold turned The Dagger on everyone.

“Congratulations, Gold! Once again you show that the only way you can get a woman to do what you want is by taking away her power in anyway you can.” Gold slapped him hard across the face, then with a wave of his hand immobilised Killian. He moved close enough that Killian could feel his breath on his skin.

“So, Hook. I’ve always wondered why you took such a keen interest in my life. Let’s find out who you really are.” Gold ripped the mask away from Killian’s face and his eyes widened in shock. “Well well well, this is a surprise! Lieutenant Jones, my old friend. Now it all makes sense.”

“If you intend to kill me, you should know, that doesn’t work on me.” Killian snarled.

“It will if I take this delightful cuff off your wrist.”

Killian felt a surge of adrenaline running through his body, readying him for a fight that would never come while Gold had him trapped.

For the first time it occurred to Killian that he might actually die tonight. He would never have told Emma he loved her. He would never have let The Saviour see his true face. He regretted both bitterly. He swore to himself that if he ever made it out of here alive he would tell them both the truth; whether Gold was defeated or not.

“But where would the fun in that be? I think I need to truly understand this power of yours first. I wonder what might happen if I were to rip out  _ your  _ heart for instance? You and I are going to have so much fun. Well, I will at least.” And without another word, Gold grabbed Killian by the throat and squeezed until everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, and if you'd like to come say hi you can find me on tumblr @katie-dub


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Previously on The Masks We Wear…_   
>  _Emma Swan AKA The Saviour and Killian Jones AKA Hook AKA The Survivor are in love. They just don’t know it yet. Killian has rejected Emma as both her superhero ally and her best friend leaving her lost and confused. But she won’t have long to dwell on that. Regina has been unknowingly under The Dark One’s control and she has just led The Survivor into a trap …_   
>  _“Emma wondered if somehow she had actually pricked him with her magic, so extreme was his reaction. But then it sunk in: he just didn’t want her.”_   
>  _“First he had to defeat The Dark One, then he could find a way to fix his broken heart.”_   
>  _“You and I are going to have so much fun. Well, I will at least.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you couldn’t guess from the last chapter there's some whump and anxiety attacks ahead - so proceed with caution if that upsets you.

Killian was startled from sleep by soft lips against his own. After Gods knows how long of being experimented on by Gold, he was constantly on edge. Even this sweet gesture felt like a wicked game. His eyes flew open and he looked up into the eyes of The Saviour.

He gasped in shock, overcome by the emotion of the moment. She waved a hand to release the bonds pinning him to the table and pulled him into a tight hug. “You saved me.” He managed to choke out.

She pulled back to look straight at him. “Aye, that's why they call me The Saviour.” She grinned.

“And you're bloody marvellous.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently, overjoyed that she accepted his lips happily after the last time he tried to kiss her. “Might I - might I take off your mask, love? You’re getting to see my devilishly handsome face properly for the first time, shouldn’t I get to do the same with you?”

“It's not the time nor the place for that, Killian, we have The  _ bloody  _ Dark One to defeat.” She started to pull him to his feet, but he stopped her, confused by what she’d said. He knew how true her words were and he was more than anxious to escape from their perilous position. But how did she know his name?

“Do I know you, love?”

She looked at him as though he had lost his mind, answering him slowly. “Yeah, Hook, you know me. What has Gold done to you?” Her eyes swept over his face, checking for some kind of injury. 

“No,” He shook his head, trying to make sense of the situation. “You called me Killian, do you know the real me? Not just Hook?”

She cocked her head to one side. “Haven’t you worked it out yet,  _ love _ ?”

There was a nasty edge to her reply that his sleep-deprived brain couldn’t make sense of. “Are you - are you mocking me?”

“Perish the thought.”

“Why are you doing this to me, love? Haven’t I been through enough?” He was gripping her tightly, he needed an answer.

“Don't you know, Killian? I'm not really here.” Her words turned his heart to ice. The taunting lilt of the words echoing in his mind. This was all a fantasy: a wonderful, horrible fantasy. He wasn’t going to survive going up against Gold. The Saviour would never come for him. And he would be tortured until Gold finally got bored and took off his cuff to kill him. She grabbed his face, forcing him to look up at her. “Hey, hey, don’t lose hope, TS. I will find you, I will always find you.”

He woke up for real this time to excruciating pain. Gold never let him sleep for long, preferring to keep him on edge and confused at all times. “Well, dearie, what kind of scientist would I be if I didn't test the effect of sleep deprivation on your powers?”

It was all bullshit. This was just about hurting him, tormenting the man who had his wife, and they both knew it.

“Today you’re in for a real treat, dearie!” Gold announced triumphantly, Killian instinctively shuddered in response. “I have a new experiment that you’ll be  _ dying  _ to try.” The monster chuckled to himself, apparently highly amused by his own jokes.

Killian stared up at him defiantly, Gold's meaning abundantly clear to him. “Well, what are you waiting for? If you meant to kill me, just get it over with, spare us both the indignity of spending any longer in each other’s presence.”

“Oh I’m not going to kill you,” Gold trilled in glee, “we’re going to find out just how effective my Dagger is!” Gold produced the Dagger with a flourish.

Killian knew he was meant to reply, to ask whatever Gold could mean. But he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. His tormenter wouldn’t even get so much as a quirked eyebrow from him.

“I know you know what it is, dearie. You and your Nevenger friends think you’re so clever, but it doesn’t concern me that you know about the Dagger. It’s not like you can stop me.” Gold giggled at the thought, Killian just stared at him blankly. “I’ll tell you, even if you won’t ask, Jones. My Dagger can control anyone’s actions. I want to see how far I can go.” Gold stroked the Dagger against his throat. “Can I force someone to override their self-preservation instinct and kill themselves, for example?”

Bile rose in Killian’s throat and a wave of revulsion washed over him. But he still had his pride. Though the thought of dying before he could reveal his secrets to Emma and The Saviour was heartbreaking, he refused to let the emotion show. “Wonderful. I have to kill myself. Shall we get on with it?”

The cackle that came from The Dark One was ungodly. “So eager! I  _ like  _ it!”

Gold surprised him by turning around and reaching for his hook. His jaw clenched slightly at the sight of his foe clicking his prosthetic into place. Why was Gold returning his hook to him, unless - 

_ Bloody Hell. _

Gold grasped the Dagger tightly in one hand and released the strap on Killian’s left arm. This would be the perfect moment to sink his hook into the demon who took so much from him.

And yet.

Killian was frozen in place by the force of the Dagger. His mind screamed at him to move, to finish the monster, to protect himself and those he loved. He couldn’t so much as flinch.

“Killian Jones, end yourself.”

_ No, no, NO!  _ His internal protests did little but make his arm shake as he moved his own hook against his throat. He pressed down hard and -

Emma was there, her blonde hair shining and her green eyes flashing with anger. His saviour. He couldn’t see where Gold had gone. He didn’t care. She was here. His Emma. His love.

He didn’t even realise he was crying until she wiped away his tears. “Shhhhh,” she soothed, “it’s OK, Killian, I’m here to save you.”

Emma must have released him from his bonds, because the next thing he knew he was sitting up in her arms while she rocked him slowly. He felt safe at last. He could feel himself filling with warmth, surrounded by her love.

“You - you found me, you -” he choked out.

“I will always find you, Killian,” she murmured soothingly. Her words sounded familiar. He pulled away to look at her, noting with curiosity that there were sparks flying from her fingertips. Everywhere she touched he felt -

Blinding agony. 

The Dark One sent tiny electric shocks across his skin. They hurt, but worse was the feeling of being dragged away from Emma. From a very important realisation that drew further and further away with every jolt of pain. He needed to understand.

It was so much harder to play Gold's minds games after what had just happened. He wanted to curl up and get lost in his fantasies. But he needed to stay strong, to give away nothing so he could be reunited with Emma and The Saviour. 

He locked up his tender heart full of emotions and packed it away for safe keeping, readying himself to face his tormenter.

“Wakey wakey, Lieutenant Jones! Tell me, what would your brother think of you still being in bed at this hour? And with your superior on hand ordering you to wake up?”

Killian opened his eyes, regarding Gold coolly. “I wouldn't consider scum such as yourself superior to me.” He raked his eyes over the man with a sneer. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Gold pressed his hand against Killian's chest, right above his heart and sent a massive electric shock through him.

It was like fire spreading throughout his limbs, every organ, every nerve, every sinew was on fire. It was so much pain - then it stopped.

“Careful, lieutenant, people who are close to you tend to pay for your actions. Milah, Liam -”

“So you admit to killing Liam?”

“Oh no, no, I didn't kill your brother. There was an unfortunate accident, surely you know that?” Gold's face was full of wide-eyed concern, but his tone was patronising. “And if I were to have sent him on a mission I knew he wouldn't make it out of alive? Well, sometimes a ruler has to make hard decisions. It's just a regrettable and unfortunate reality of leadership.”

Killian took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he struggled against giving into the rage that Gold inspired.

“It would be a shame if any more of your loved ones were to fall victim to your curse. I hear there's an Emma Swan who is particularly special to you. Perhaps she could help to keep you compliant.”

“You keep her out of this!”

He shouldn't have taken the bait, but he had denied himself for so long to keep her safe. 

_ He could see the confusion and hurt on her face as he had jumped away from her - rejecting her kiss for her own good. _

That couldn't all be for nothing. Unless it wasn't enough? Did he have to stay away entirely, not even allow himself the comfort of her friendship? 

_ If I ever make it out of here alive. _

The thought lodged itself in his brain - what sense was there in worrying about would happen once he got out when that seemed unlikely? If he were dead, she would be safe from such threats. It was little comfort, but beyond that, his only real hope was that he could somehow find a way to fight this long enough to take Gold with him. He could rest in peace knowing that his final act had been to protect her.

“Oh I see, has Miss Swan replaced my Milah in your heart? Found yourself a new twoo luv?” 

The accusation hit Killian hard. Milah. He’d started all of this for her. Had he somehow forgotten her along the way? Replaced her affections with not one, but two unattainable visions?

_ No _ , came the resounding answer from his heart,  _ she’s not forgotten. She’ll always be a part of you and she would want you to be happy. _

But was he?

“I wonder how you’d feel if I were to take your Swan the way you took my Milah.”

Killian saw red at his words. The thought of this beast with his hands on Emma was too much - and that’s before he considered the vile misogyny dripping from Gold’s words.

“Well, it’s lovely to see that your understanding of women’s rights has reached the Middle Ages, Gold, but I prefer my women willing.” His snark was all he had to attack the monster before him and he would bloody well use it.

“But she will be willing, she will want me  _ so much _ .”

“One of these days, Gold, you and I are going to need to have a good, long chat about consent. But then, considering what you did to Belle, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you think that would be acceptable behaviour.”

Gold’s eyes filled with rage and his face changed into something monstrous. “How dare you say her name to me? What could you possibly know of Belle?”

“Oh mate, I know  _ everything. _ ”

_ Killian was working out in headquarters went he felt eyes on him. He turned with a smirk, expecting to see The Saviour offering to kick his ass. He was surprised to see The Librarian hovering near the door to their gym instead. _

_ He had been working with The Nevengers for a few months now, and while The Librarian seemed to be softening towards him, she hadn’t lost that air of distrust that she had when The Saviour first brought him to HQ. (Although he supposed as the first time they met he had made an attempt on her life, he could hardly blame her.) _

_ He smoothed his smirk into a friendly smile. “Are you rallying the troops, lass?” _

_ She hesitated, “er - can we talk, Hook?” _

_ He was puzzled but walked over to the bench where his towel lay and shrugged it over his shoulders, before dropping down. Working out in his mask was bloody uncomfortable, and he longed to wipe the sweat off his face. Still, it was good preparation for when he was really out there fighting he supposed. _

_ “What’s bothering you, bookworm?” _

_ “I want to tell you a story. I think it may be one that you’re familiar with.” _

_ “That’s very cryptic, but ok.” He patted at the bench beside him. “Let’s enjoy story time with The Librarian.” She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed with his reply, but gingerly sat down, nonetheless. _

_ “Once upon a time there was a young man whose mother died young and whose father sold him to a villain at a young age.” _

_ “So, your standard tragic back story then?” Killian interrupted, already uncomfortable with where he was sure this was heading. _

_ “It worries me that you think there is anything ‘standard’ about selling your own flesh and blood.”  He shrugged, trying not to show how much her story was already affecting him. _

_ “There was one bright spark in his life - the older brother he adored, his fellow slave. The boys were strong and feisty and soon they were put into the villain’s fighting pits. And there they might have stayed, forced to battle men sometimes twice their age and usually twice their size, if an eminent philanthropist hadn’t rescued them and given them places in his own private army.  _

_ “They were still fighting, and doing dangerous work, but they were happy knowing that this time they were fighting the good fight. That they were making the world a better place. And, above all, that they weren’t disposable. _

_ “Of course, they weren’t to know that it was all a lie. The philanthropist hadn’t appeared in the pits on a rescue mission, he was checking up on his investment.” _

_ Killian’s face turned grim, he didn't need to hear more to know that somehow this superhero knew his true identity. He panicked a little, wondering who else might know the truth. _

_ “But these two brothers were brave and talented. They soon rose through the ranks, with the young man earning the commission of lieutenant, fighting under his brother’s command as captain. _

_ “Their employer was delighted with them, and trusted them above all others. And that is why he placed the younger brother in charge of his wife’s safety - he was to be her bodyguard and protect her with his life. _

_ “Unfortunately for the young man he fell desperately in love with his charge - and she with him. Soon he discovered the veneer of respectability on his employer was nothing but a mask, hiding the monster within. The man was cruel and abusive towards his wife - she needed protecting from him more than anyone else. _

_ “The pair may have run away together and lived happily ever after, if they hadn’t been caught in the act by the monster. He relieved the lieutenant of a hand, murdered his wife, and set fire to her bedroom, leaving his formerly favoured lieutenant in there to die. _

_ “But something happened that the villain couldn’t have known: his lieutenant had a dormant superpower. He was invulnerable. The fire sparked it to life, and he walked out of the flames. _

_ “His employer thought that he had died and he used that ignorance in his favour. He turned to a life of villainy to get his revenge on the beast who killed his love… Until a few months ago when he met a superhero who offered him a chance at redemption.  _

_ “And now, Lieutenant Killian Jones, Hook, The Survivor … whatever you want to be called. You’ve turned your life around: you’re a real hero. How does it feel?” _

_ Killian let out a slow breath through his teeth, and rubbed the back of his neck. He felt uncomfortably hot and exposed. “You really are a clever lass, aren’t you?” _

_ “It’s about time someone noticed.” Belle said dryly. “You know that your secret’s safe with me, don’t you?” _

_ Killian’s was deeply touched by her words and nodded slightly. “Thank you,” his voice came out as a whisper and he cleared his throat. “How - how did you figure it all out?” _

_ One corner of Belle’s mouth twisted up in a sad half smile. “I have another story to tell. There once  was a young girl who was always thought peculiar for her love of books and learning. She was far smarter than most of her peers - so much so that she left for college at a young age. Her looks ensured that she had attention, but no one seemed to see the real her. _

_ “They had no idea that she had a special power - she could enter the world of her books and learn from the characters in them, could absorb their knowledge. Perhaps if they had known they would have understood. Perhaps it would have confirmed to them that she truly was a freak. _

_ “They all wanted her to cast aside the books she loved. The girls couldn’t relate to her and the guys just wanted to fuck her. _

_ “She longed to meet someone who did not care for her looks, but for her brains, and one day, she did. She was at a fundraiser when she met the older man - he was a respected lawyer who had earned enough money that he devoted most of his time to philanthropic deeds. She challenged him over his opinions and they argued fiercely all night. _

_ “The man was delighted with her wit and her fire and impressed that she would argue with him where most blindly agreed. He offered her the chance to work for him. _

_ “She would never admit it - even to herself - but she found herself a little in love with him that first night. She knew he would never look at her in that way, he was so much more experienced and he had a beautiful wife. But she knew she would get to work alongside him and that was enough. _

_ “As they worked together she got to know him better, and soon discovered that he did not care for his wife. The woman was cruel and distant; she had no respect for the work he did and he felt unloved. The girl believed his every word and so she endeavoured to take care of him; to make him feel cherished. _

_ “In time their relationship grew from close colleagues into a full-blown affair. The girl knew it was wrong, but she desperately believed that he was a good man who deserved love in his life. And she was rewarded for her devotion with love, with gifts, with a home. _

_ “She didn’t see the beast behind the man until it was too late. _

_ “At first it started out small. He could be tyrannical in his views about doing what was best for the greater good, even at the expense of individual lives. The girl would challenge him and he would always back down. But then he began to experiment, searching for ways to gather superpowers to help him do good. _

_ “And those powers changed him. _

_ “He became possessive and cruel and more often than not the girl found herself retreating into her books, becoming lost in their worlds for longer than was healthy. _

_ “Then one day he came to her and announced that he finally had divorced his wife and that they could marry. He seemed half-crazed and she should have known better than to leave that night and marry him. The next day she learned the truth: his wife was dead and her lover apparently along with her. _

_ “The girl was horrified and tried to leave but he discovered her and trapped her within her favourite story: Beauty and the Beast. She doesn’t know how long she stayed there, believing their love to be good and pure. It was so long that she almost lost herself.  _

_ “But one day a young man found her - he made her believe in herself again and rewrote the book so that she could escape. Once she was free of her beast’s claws she vowed never again to be enslaved to him: she refused to use her powers and used the money he had thrown at her in a desperate attempt to win her back to set up a team that would defeat him.” _

_ Belle went silent and Killian sat in stunned silence for a moment. “So the boy who rescued you, was that -?” _

_ “The Author.” Belle cut in with a nod. “He’s very persuasive.” _

_ Killian chuckled. “Aye. Look, lass -” _

_ “Belle - my name’s Belle -” Killian smiled at this display of trust. _

_ “Belle, thank you for telling me this story. I know that can’t have been easy for you. If it helps, it makes me more determined than ever to defeat Gold.” He took her hand and looked her straight in the eye. “I will keep your secrets as you keep mine.” _

_ “Thanks,” she whispered, looking away, “he was a good man, once. He just… he lost himself. With the things that you have said and what he told me at the time I was able to realise you must have been the ‘dead’ lover.” Belle squeezed his hand before pulling it away. _

_ “So, are you ready to help me defeat The Dark One?” _

Gold rained down abuse on his body in retaliation over Killian’s accusations about Belle. He never did like hearing the truth spelled out for him, time had done nothing to change the beast’s nasty habit. The torment went on and on and Killian lost consciousness again and again and again. He didn’t care - in those blackouts he was always with Emma or The Saviour - they lifted his spirits and gave him strength. More importantly, Gold’s ire had deflected his attention away from hurting Emma. 

Keeping her safe was always Killian’s top priority. Always.

“Hello Killian.” Emma was smiling at him. “Gold’s really doing a number on you, isn’t he?”

“Aye, love, but at least in these moments I get to be with you.”

***

Emma Swan always knew she was a champion when it came to running from awkward situations and avoiding her problems. But by the time it came to Friday and she realised that she hadn't seen Killian since Wednesday, she had to concede that the gold medal for this Olympic sport belonged to him. She hadn't even caught a glimpse of him. 

She'd be impressed, if she weren't so hurt. Because honestly, what was she supposed to think? He'd been full of unwarranted and incomprehensible concern for her.  _ “I don’t know what I’d do without you,”  _ he'd told her then reacted like her kiss had electrocuted him. And the next day he had the nerve to make that goddamn speech, which felt so much like a declaration of love that she cried herself to sleep at night in confusion. Then he'd successfully ignored her for two days solid. Being around him just felt so good and so right that her magic would swell when he was around, so why was he intent on giving her emotional whiplash?

She was frustrated as hell just thinking about it and she refused to let him get away with it any longer. She stormed over to his desk, ready to drag him out of the room and shout at him. But he wasn't there. His computer wasn't even on.

She took a moment to compose herself. “Where's Killian?” she asked the girl who sat next to him, hoping to sound casual and breezy. 

She frowned up at Emma in confusion. “Er - he's on vacation?”

“What?” the startled word was out of her mouth before she could help herself. 

The girl - Aurora, maybe? God, she wished she remembered her name, she'd never really paid much attention to her when Killian was around - looked sympathetic. “Trouble in paradise? I admit, I'm surprised to see you here, I assumed he'd whisked you away to propose.”

“Huh? Oh!” Emma bit her lip and shook her head, this was all too much for her to process right now. “Killian and I aren't together.”

“Oh, so the poor man is nursing a broken heart? I'd suggest you go talk to him, work out whatever has come between you. If anyone were to look at me the way he looks at you? Well, I'd never let him go -” Aurora (a quick glance at her email signature on screen had confirmed it, Emma felt a little thrill of victory for not having  _ total  _ tunnel vision when Killian was around) sighed at the thought.

Emma looked at Aurora curiously. Sure, she knew how she  _ wanted _ him to look at her, and she had actually deluded herself into imaging that's how he really did look at her. What on earth did Aurora see there? “How does he look at me?”

“Like you are every wish he'd ever made and his every dirty fantasy come to life in one perfect package? Are you seriously telling me you don't know that man is truly, madly, deeply, head over heels in love with you?”

Emma gaped at Aurora briefly, before the memory of the way he'd sprinted away from her on Tuesday sprang to mind. “He has a funny way of showing it.” Emma huffed. 

Aurora looked suspiciously like she was about to make another comment about working things out so Emma quickly made an excuse and ran away.

He was on vacation. The more she thought about it, the more furious she became. He hadn't told her he was going, he just  _ left _ . He fucking abandoned her.

She pulled out her phone and typed out a message to him, seething all the while. “Thanks for telling me about your last minute vacation. I hope that you’re enjoying yourself.” She thought for a minute, she wasn’t sure if the sarcasm that dripped from every word in her mind really came across when written down. But then, she couldn’t quite bring herself to be any nastier about it.

She brooded over this state of affairs for most of the rest of the afternoon. How she managed to complete the report she was working on for Regina, she’d never know. In the back of her mind there was a constant commentary, lurching wildly between “how fucking dare he?!”, “I don’t care, it’s not like he’s my  _ boyfriend _ or anything” and, worst of all, “why am I never enough?”

Still, somehow she made it through and placed the report on Regina’s desk with 10 minutes to spare.

“Thank you, Miss Swan,” Regina dismissed her, barely looking up from her desk.

Emma went to leave, then hesitated. Regina seemed to be the one with all the information about Killian’s mysterious vacation, perhaps she could provide some more details. “Er - Ms. Mills?”

Regina looked up with her eyebrows raised in displeased expectation. “Yes?”

Emma knew from experience that she needed to talk fast - Regina’s exasperation was palpable. “I just wondered - Killian Jones talked to you about this last minute vacation, right?” Regina nodded. “So… did he tell you where he was going? Or when he might be coming back”

Emma squirmed under her boss’ penetrating gaze. She felt like a naughty schoolchild waiting to be punished. To her surprise, the woman laughed, albeit mirthlessly.

“You don’t know where your own boyfriend is? Really? Hmm.” She considered this. “He told me he had a family emergency and he couldn’t say when he’d return, but is the truth that you broke up with him? No wonder he sounded so devastated!” Regina shook her head to herself. “I must say, I’m surprised, did you tell him about you and Hook?”

Emma gaped dumbly, her mind didn’t know which piece of bizarre information to cling on to. There was just so much misinformation in everything the woman had said she couldn’t think how to answer her. Finally she spat out the first thing that came to mind, an incredulous, “Me and Hook? There is no me and Hook?”

“Oh, of course not, darling. I happen to know the man a little -”  _ so do I _ , Emma replied in her head, bewildered “- and I know that he ran out of a club to chase after you. That certainly sounds like something, wouldn’t you agree?”

Regina smiled at her - Emma could see that she was really enjoying torturing her. “Well - yeah - but it wasn’t - there isn’t -”

“Perhaps Killian came to hear of it and disagreed.”

“I - I -” Emma was completely flabbergasted. This whole situation was ridiculous. It went beyond ridiculous to completely and utterly insane.

“As fascinating as your love life is, Miss Swan, I do have work to do. So, if there’s nothing else, you may go.” Regina dismissed Emma with a wave of her hand and Emma was too confused to do anything but stumble awkwardly out of the door.

Killian had taken a last minute vacation, citing a “family emergency”, which Emma knew was total bullshit, since he had no family. So where had he gone, why had he gone last minute, and why had he “sounded devastated” when he talked to Regina? 

If Emma didn’t know detecting lies was a superpower of hers she might assume that Regina had lied to her. Whatever else was going on, her boss certainly seemed to think she was telling the truth, so surely it had to be Killian that was lying. But why would he do that? Why did he need to suddenly leave town presumably without any notice as to when he might return? 

As if all of that weren’t vexing enough, there was the little matter of Regina thinking that Killian was her boyfriend - and that possibly The Survivor had come between them. Why on earth would she think all of this?

When she got back to her desk, she was relieved to see it was time to leave, she had never been more ready for the weekend to begin. She had too many questions and conflicting feelings buzzing through her and it was setting her on edge. She could feel her anxiety levels rising and she desperately needed to escape from all the noise and retreat into herself. 

She exited the building and looked about cautiously. Seeing no immediate danger, she ducked into an alley nearby so she could poof back to her apartment. It was a risky move, but allowing herself to use public transportation in her current state of agitation was riskier.

She needed answers - she needed to talk to Killian. 

Her hands shaking, she pulled her phone from her pocket and clicked on his contact. The phone rang and rang and rang in her ear and with each moment that passed she felt her chest tighten, her nerves tingle and her magic sparking.

“Hello, you’ve reached Killian Jones, I’m sorry I can’t take your call -” Killian’s silky voice was cut off by a surge of magic that caused her phone to explode. Emma stared at it on the floor shocked by the power of her own feelings. She needed to get out of her apartment before she did something stupid.

She waved a hand to fix her Saviour uniform in place then poofed to the only place she could think of - HQ.

“Hey Saviour!” Belle greeted her warmly, although the smile on her face quickly turned to a frown as she took in Emma’s anxious expression. “Is everything ok?”

“Um - I - I don’t know?” Emma’s voice was shaking, Belle stepped closer to her with concern in her eyes. Emma’s hands flew up to indicate that The Librarian should stay back, and they shimmered as she moved. “I just … I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I think I’m losing control of my powers.”

“Ok,” Belle replied simply, “we can deal with that. When did this start? Do you know what might have caused it? Can -”

Belle broke off, her eyes widening in alarm. Emma didn’t reply. She couldn’t; she had started glowing with the force of her powers spreading across her skin.

“Right. Why don’t you just take yourself to the gym and see if you can work off some of that excess energy? I can make you a nice cup of tea when you’re done and maybe we can have a chat?”

Emma blinked at Belle. She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t this supportive and serene response.

“You aren’t scared I’ll break your gym?”

Belle shrugged. “I have the money. And besides - you know everything in their is triple reinforced, right? I’d be forever replacing all the gear if all it took was a little superpowered accident to break it.”

Emma beamed at Belle - she wondered why she’d never spent that much time with her before. The Survivor and her were certainly very close, they seemed to have an understanding. Maybe Emma could trust her to help her through her problems? Later though, once she’d got her powers under control.

It was two hours later when Emma finally emerged from the gym, exhausted and shaky as she started to crash from the massive high her power surge had brought.

Snow had showed up, as had Tina and the three superheroes all looked up at Emma with bright smiles. “Are you ready for that cup of tea now?” Belle asked cheerfully.

Emma eyed them all suspiciously. “This feels like an ambush.”

Tina rolled her eyes. “It’s just tea, Saviour. If you want to talk, that’s cool. If not, that’s fine too.”

Emma settled down at the table. “What would we talk about?”

“We could talk about whatever you want!” Snow replied eagerly, “it doesn’t have to be your problem -”

“I don’t have a problem.” Emma cut her off quickly, leaning back in her chair. Her elbow slipped as she went to lean on the arm casually and she internally cursed how unconvincing she sounded. She looked up to see the three all exchanging knowing looks.

“Sure you don’t.” Tina responded dryly, giving Emma a pointed look.

“What we’re all here to say,” Belle spoke up now, placing a cup of tea in front of Emma, “is that we’re here for you. If you want to talk?”

To Emma’s surprise she found, she did. It was unlike her to spill her feelings, but suddenly everything that had been going on with The Survivor and Killian came spilling out of her. How she was in love with two men; how she’d kissed them both; how she’d been rejected by both. 

“And now my best friend’s just left me for some kind of spur of the minute vacation and I don’t know what to think.”

She looked up to see three identical looks of sympathy before her.

“That sounds rough,” said Snow. “I can see how confusing all of this must be for you. You just need to listen to your heart, that will steer you to the right man.”

“But neither of them want me!” Tina scoffed at Emma’s words. “What? You disagree?”

“Oh, Hook wants you honey,” Tina stated empathically, “he might have his reasons for not being with you. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you.”

The other girls both nodded. “This isn’t helping,” Emma said flatly, “I just need to forget about all of this for a while.”

Snow grinned wickedly. “Girl’s night out! Let’s go to Supers! and get drunk!”

Emma appreciated the thought, but really couldn’t stand the thought of going to a bar and getting hit on by sleazy guys. “I’d rather just go punch some bad guys and get to bed. Any news on the bad guy front, Belle?”

Belle frowned. “No, actually. The mission to infiltrate Gold’s was a bust - somehow he caught wind of it and Regina had to call it off.”

Emma felt deflated. “I’ll just go home. Maybe walk through a dodgy neighbourhood, see if anyone there needs a pummeling.” Emma stood up to leave. “Thank you all - it helped to talk about it - bye!”

There was a chorus of “no problems”, “anytimes”, and “goodbyes”. As she got up to go, but just before she made it through the door, Belle caught her elbow.

“This friend of yours - is it like him to just leave without telling you?”

Emma thought long and hard. Since she’d known Killian, she honestly couldn’t think of another occasion where he’d let her down. Although she also had never kissed him and sent him running before.

“No. But it’s also not like me to kiss him.” Emma shrugged like it was no big deal, despite how hurt she felt.

“Maybe he hasn’t left then, Saviour? Perhaps someone has taken him?”

Emma considered Belle’s words. “Wouldn’t I have had some kind of ransom note by now?”

“You would think so… But, I don’t know, you can’t be too careful. I can look into this for you, if you want?”

“I’ll think about it.” Emma answered. She was a little concerned that giving the girl Killian’s name would let her in on too much information about her secret identity. But still… She had given her something to think about. If Killian didn’t appear soon, she’d have to.

And Emma did think about it as she punched a mugger in the nose on her way home. As she tossed and turned all night wondering if there could be anything to Belle’s suggestion. As she went to buy a new phone after accepting that her own magic wasn’t up to fixing the damn thing.

Eventually the niggling doubt and worry that Belle had planted had grown such that she had to do something. Still unsure about revealing Killian’s identity to her fellow superhero, she decided to do her own investigating, which is how she found herself using her spare key to enter Killian’s apartment in the search for clues.

She couldn’t say what she was looking for. A sign that he had left of his own accord perhaps - or something to show he hadn’t. After poking around a little bit she gave up. She didn’t know what she was looking for. Perhaps if she asked Henry to help her hack his computer she’d find something - but she wasn’t quite that desperate yet.

Instead she found herself curling up in his bed desperately wondering what to do and how to feel. She pretended it was his arms instead of his blanket wrapped around her and fell asleep to turbulent dreams of Killian being tortured.

She woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of him screaming in pain. She startled awake and felt an instant terror that he wasn’t in bed with her. It took a moment before she remembered that everything she had seen and heard had been nothing but a nightmare. 

But it felt so  _ real. _ He was nearly naked and strapped to a table while Gold loomed over him, poking and prodding at him, torturing his flesh. She shook her head to rid herself of the vision, when she noticed his closet stood ajar.

Suddenly the obvious thing came to her: was his suitcase gone? He wouldn’t have left town without any clothes. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before.

She switched on the light and walked over to the closet and began rummaging around inside. She had never realised how big the damn thing was and made a mental note to tease him for how many copies of the exact same clothing he had. 

She pushed aside his ridiculously neat row of shirts organised by both category (smart or casual) and colour, and noticed a strange panel in the wall behind. She didn’t think twice but to use her magic to open it. It swung open to reveal his prosthetic hand. Emma’s head tilted as she looked at it in confusion.

_ Why does he keep his hand in a secret container? Wait, why isn’t he  _ wearing _ his hand? _

The thought troubled her when she noticed something else that was strange: some kind of pieces of leather were neatly lined up. She picked one up and pulled it towards her. She gasped as she realised what she was holding in her hands.

It was a mask.

It was  _ The Survivor’s _ mask.

And that surely could mean only one thing:  _ Killian Jones was The Survivor. _

The image of Killian being tortured that she had seen in her dreams flashed before her eyes. And somehow she just  _ knew  _ that it was real - and that, wherever he was, he was in terrible danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to chat on tumblr you can find me @katie-dub - and here's [this fic over there](https://katie-dub.tumblr.com/post/162977260417/the-masks-we-wear-8)! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Previously on The Masks We Wear…_   
>  _Emma Swan AKA The Saviour and Killian Jones AKA Hook AKA The Survivor are in love. They just don’t know it yet. Emma has discovered The Survivor’s true identity, but she knows that means bad news for the love of her life. He is currently being tortured by The Dark One and she needs to save him._   
>  _“He was in terrible danger.”_   
>  _“I will always find you, Killian.”_

Emma stared hard at the mask as the reality of the situation sank in. Of course Killian was The Survivor.

What at first seemed like insanity now felt so obvious. The way she was drawn to Hook, felt so connected to him from the moment they met. She hadn't felt that way about anyone else but Killian. And Killian with all of his clumsy sweetness could always make her melt with his seductive insinuations.

_God, they both have one hand!_ Talk about a flashing neon signpost, it was hardly a common trait.

She tried not to beat herself up for missing the glaringly obvious. Because, really, what were the chances that two undercover superheroes would happen to meet at work? And to have a third superpowered person as their boss? It was contrived and ridiculous and if this were a TV show, she would tune out.

Or would she?

She always used to love The New Adventures of Superman as a kid, despite all her yelling at Lois Lane.

And now she got it. She never expected Killian to be more than what he seemed. So she didn't examine their similarities, instead seeing the difference in speech, accent and how they carried themselves.

Logically, she knew that The Survivor probably had some sort of day job - even superheroes have to pay the bills - but the honest truth was that she never thought about it. He was in the part of her life firmly marked “superhero”. She liked the clear separation. Everything was neatly segmented to keep nice, clear boundaries. The way Hook had wormed his way into her heart had thrown her organised existence into chaos. She didn't ever want to make it worse by trying to find his alter-ego.

Now she could see that the separation was a fiction she'd invented to keep herself safe. The truth was closer to a venn diagram and her brain had rejected it. No matter how much it made everything in her life so much more logical. Of course she'd fallen so hard for The Survivor, she was already in love with him. Now all she had to do was tell him and they could live happily ever after.

_Fuck._

She knew it was the logical next step, but she was scared. What was it The Survivor said to her? _“People only see what they want to see.”_ She’d never felt the truth of those words before. But now? Now she was faced with telling her love the truth and getting everything she wanted and the idea was crippling.

She had honestly thought that she just wanted to protect Killian and that’s why they weren’t together. She hadn’t stopped to consider how her own self preservation instinct might be at work.

The irony of the lie-detecting superhero who cannot recognise her own bullshit was not lost on her.

_At least I know that I can stop worrying about him becoming the damsel in distress in this scenario._ She shook her head, laughing at the ridiculous worry that had previously consumed her. _You can’t kill an invulnerable superhero._ The sound of his screams that had woken her from her dream echoed back to her. _You can hurt them though._

Fuck.

Killian was hurting and she was too busy fretting and angsting to do anything about it. She grabbed her Nevengers phone and dialled.

“Belle? I’m sorry to wake you, but I need your help right now.!

“What’s wrong?” She loved that she could always rely on Belle to help.

“Call Henry. I need you two at HQ. Now. Tell no one else.”

“Of course, but what is going on?”

“The Survivor’s in danger.”

“We’ll see you there. Don’t worry, Saviour, the clue’s in the name, he’ll get through this and you’ll rescue him. It’s what you guys do.”

Emma wasn’t entirely sure that she believed her, but after the delay her freak out had caused already, Emma knew there was no more time to waste.

 

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on, Saviour?” Belle asked, eyes wide with concern. Emma knew that she must look a state, vibrating with magic as she was, and stalking up and down the room.

“My friend who just took off on vacation?” Belle nodded, clearly not quite following Emma’s train of thought. “The more I thought about it, the more wrong it felt for him to just leave. He’s never let me down before and I … I went looking for him and now I know he's _him_ and as soon as I realised I knew that Gold must have him - ”

“What?” Belle interrupted, looking confused.

“My friend is The Survivor. I didn’t know. I -”

“Killian?” Belle spoke sharply, clearly terrified by the implication. Emma felt a rush of jealousy at the idea that The Survivor - that _Killian_ \- had shared his secrets with her. “Gold has Killian? Saviour, we have to get him out. You don’t understand what Gold will do to him.”

“I know!” Emma wailed, stopping her trek up and down the room. She took deep breaths to try to calm her heart rate.

“No. You don’t.” Belle’s voice was flat and emotionless but her eyes betrayed her distress. “He will torture him and he will kill him.”

“He’s not dead.” Emma whispered to herself. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she just felt it. It was like he owned a piece of her soul and she would feel it if he were truly taken from her.

“Not yet.” Belle agreed, a grim attempt at a reassuring smile stretched across her face. “But we have to move fast. Henry, let’s get to work.”

 

Emma paced and tried to calm herself while Belle and Henry lept into action.

She wanted to think of a happy place, but they all revolved around and featured Killian. On his boat, smelling the salt in the air and feeling the breeze on her skin while the waves gently lapped around them. Snuggling on Killian’s couch with hot chocolate and cinnamon. Laughing with Killian as they watched the water from their special spot on the beach while the sun warmed their skin and rum warmed their bellies.

She wasn’t sure she could ever be happy again if he died. She closed her eyes, trying to shake that thought. But visions of what might be happening to him right now burst into her mind. She couldn't bear to think about how Gold might be hurting him.

It was ridiculous to suggest that knowing that it was Killian Jones who had been captured made the situation so much worse. And yet, _it did._

Killian was just so much softer than Hook, more vulnerable and in touch with his emotions. It shook her to learn that Hook’s devil-may-care attitude, endless supply of innuendos and razor sharp wit, were as much a part of his disguise as the mask that hid his face. Knowing that the traits that made him a fighter, that made him The Survivor, were hiding such a tender underbelly terrified her. She needed to rescue him. Now.

 

“Saviour? Earth to Saviour!” Henry’s voice snapped Emma out of her panic. He and Belle were both looking at her intently. “You still with us?” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he watched her with a raised eyebrow. “Right. I’ve got us into their security systems and we’ve located Hook. I can deactivate the alarms in the room and feed them a loop of security footage so they don’t spot you. But you haven’t got long.”

“Right.” Belle confirmed with a nod. “I’ve been reviewing the security footage. He’s never left alone for more than 15 minutes at a time. It seems to be part of Gold’s … experiments.” She broke off, looking to Emma nervously, clearly dreading her reaction.

Emma was too focussed on the mission to let anything get to her. Crying wasn’t going to save her man, so she nodded at Belle to continue.

“We’ve got Regina’s cuff for you to wear, but it’s the only one we have. You’ll have to go in alone.”

“Good. The less people involved the faster I can work.” She looked up at Belle, challenging The Librarian to contradict her. No one else cared about rescuing Killian like she did. She couldn’t worry about anyone else in this situation.

Belle eyed her warily but wisely chose to ignore this statement. “OK, well, there’s no pattern to when Killian is alone so we’ll just have to watch and wait. Put on the cuff and a earpiece now so that the second the coast is clear we can get you in.”

Emma did as instructed, then settled in to watch the security screens. She fiddled with the standard-issue Nevengers earpiece in her ear nervously, she found them kind of uncomfortable, but better that than losing contact with the team while out on a mission. She allowed her eyes to blur so she didn’t have to watch the minion wreaking havoc on Killian. She hated herself for not being able to even watch his torment when he was there, living it.

_Just hold on, I’m coming for you._ She thought desperately, closing her eyes and imagining herself in the room with him. She hoped that he would somehow just feel her love, that he would _know_ she would save him.

“Get ready, Saviour!” Belle brought her back to the room. “Henry’s just disabling everything, on his signal, 3… 2… 1…”

Emma poofed straight into a sterile white room, counters covered in a variety of implements of torture lined the room. But she didn't notice them, transfixed as she was by the sight of Killian strapped to a table in the middle of the room.

He looked like a corpse, lifeless and skin tinged with grey. Her worst fears had come to life. She felt like she had died at the sight.

_“Wouldn't The Survivor be the perfect guy for you, then? Maybe you hadn't noticed, but he's a little hard to kill. It's kind of his thing.”_

She couldn’t help but remember Henry’s words as he had encouraged her to pursue The Survivor. They felt like a bitter taunt. She was on the verge of collapse when Killian mumbled something incoherently.

“Killian!” she cried out in delight and relief and ran to his side. She couldn't help but reach out and stroke his cheek, needing to touch him, to feel that he was real. He slowly opened his eyes, staring dully up at her and subconsciously nuzzled against her palm. She smiled, overjoyed to see that he was holding on to life, and tried to hide her terror from him. It was all going to be ok now, they were together and she could save him.

She waved her hand to release his restraints. Nothing happened. She tried again and was hit by a terrible realisation: her magic didn’t work on them.

What was she meant to do now? How was she going to save the man she loved? How could she ever stand against Gold if some basic cuffs had her beaten?

She knew that her anxieties were quickly spiralling out of control, but she couldn’t see a way out of this situation. Leaving without Killian simply wasn’t an option, but how could she take him with her?

“Panel -” the stuttered word from Killian stunned her and for a moment she couldn’t understand what he meant. His eyes were fixed behind her - she looked over her shoulder and saw what he meant at once: a keypad that surely held the secret to releasing him “- there’s a code.”

While his words couldn’t completely calm her fears, knowing that he was still fighting Gold, still working with her, filled her with pride. If he could rise to the challenge then so could she.

She pressed her finger to her earpiece to activate it. “Belle,” she said, trying to sound calm. “I need a code to release Killian. Get Henry to figure it out.”

“Teacup.” Belle’s response was automatic. “832287”

A part of Emma wondered at the certainty of Belle’s instantaneous response, but she didn’t have time to question it. She smashed in the code and breathed a deep sigh of release when the bonds sprang open.

“Thanks, Belle,” she breathed, already rushing back to Killian’s side.

She pulled him into her arms and attempted to magic them back to HQ. Nothing happened. Her grip tightened on Killian, part of her appreciating the reassuring warmth of his chest while the rest of her was busy freaking out.

“Guys … My magic’s not working,” she hissed into her earpiece, while running her hand up and down Killian's back to soothe him.

“Shit, fuck, shit shit shit.” Emma almost laughed at Henry's reply, but her chest felt on the brink of exploding with the strength of her heartbeat.

“Henry!” Belle scolded. “He's already on it, Saviour, inputting that code seems to have triggered a failsafe in the security system to block powers… and the frequency is not overridden by your cuff.”

“But he can fix it, right?”

Killian whimpered and Emma realised that she was digging her fingers into his skin. She had to force herself to loosen her grip, reminding herself that she was hurting him.

“Of course I fucking can, Saviour, I'm The Author. I got this.” Henry's cocky reply actually managed to make her laugh this time. He'd been spending too much time with The Survivor.

“Saviour… Sorry to worry you but…” Belle’s voice broke in hesitantly.

“What?” If Emma thought she was panicking before it was nothing to how she felt now.

“... You're about to have company.”

“Fuck.” Emma jumped away from Killian and looked around the room for weapons. She prayed that whoever was coming didn't have a gun.

“I'll have you out of there in a minute, Saviour. Just hold em off til then.”

She grabbed a long knife from the counter, ignoring the blood stains along the blade. She moved to place herself between Killian and the door.

Repressing a shudder, she tried not to think about how that knife must have been used on him. She tried not to panic that he hadn't yet moved to defend himself.

_He doesn't have any wounds,_ she told herself. _He can still heal. He's just tired._

Her muscles were locked and tense. She was trained for this, but still… No one wanted to face an enemy without their superpowers.

She heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor.

“Come on, Henry,” she whispered.

The door opened. “What the -” She stabbed out at the shocked guard on the right. He staggered back in shock as his partner stepped forward to take his place.

“It's done. Get out of there,” came Henry's voice in Emma’s ear.

She whirled around to grab Killian's hand. She heard a click behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. The guard had a gun. It was pointing right at them.

She heard the bang as the room dissolved into fog.

Killian's legs buckled as they arrived in the sick bay at headquarters. She guided him backwards to the bed, landing awkwardly on top of him as they tumbled down.

She felt a warmth seeping into her shirt. Oh god, the gunshot. She raised herself up on her elbows to look at him, feeling the panic rising as she looked for a bullet wound.

His shoulder - his powers were working, but painfully slowly. He wasn’t healthy and healing himself was taking too much effort. His eyes were closed and he looked so sickly and pale. She poured every part of her soul into ensuring his well-being.

_You’re safe,_ she thought, willing him back to life. _You’re loved,_ as her magic flowed from her and into him. _I need you._

His eyes fluttered open. He couldn’t seem to see her and her heart nearly broke, but recognition swept over him and he beamed up at her. Despite all the exhaustion he must have felt, the only thing that she could see in his eyes was pure happiness. Could she really be the cause of that?

She felt her frown melt away and couldn’t help but reflect his smile. It was time to reveal everything.

“I have to tell you something.” She grabbed his hands and pulled him upright, sitting back on her heels. He held on tightly to her hands, clinging to her for dear life and attempting to look encouraging. Her heart swelled with happiness, and she could feel a lightness spreading through her whole body at the thought of telling her secret and setting down her burden.

“I -” _am Emma Swan._ The words were right there. It should be so easy to say them, but her throat closed up. An inexplicable terror had gripped her heart and a thousand “what ifs” swarmed up in her brain. It all felt too much like an admission of love and she knew she wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable. He had rejected her. Killian had. The Survivor had. She didn’t know why.

_What if he didn’t care for her in that way? What if he didn’t want this life? What if she wasn’t enough? What if it was all too much?_

She was drowning in anxiety and she didn’t know how to control it. He winced as a spark flew from her fingertips and concern crumpled his brow.

_What if..? What if..? What if..?_

She glanced at her fingers in horror. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t hurt him. So she managed it the only way she knew how - she avoided the issue. She swallowed to ease her dry throat and forced a smile.

“I’m so glad that Gold didn’t kill you.”

***

“Killian!”

He started from a dream. No, wait, he must have been awake and dropped into a slumber, for The Saviour was here and she knew his name.

But - hadn’t they just been together - or was that Emma? He strained to recall where he had just been, what had just happened, but it was so hard to be sure. The line between reality and hallucinations was blurring. Everything was foggy and uncertain, even The Saviour before him seemed insubstantial, like a ghost of a dream of a memory long since forgotten.

His head ached with the effort. Perhaps Gold had finally won and he had lost his mind, hallucinating visions of loveliness.

Oh, and how lovely she was! If this was madness, he wasn’t sure that he wanted sanity. She was beaming at him even as terror and concern filled her eyes. He wanted to speak, to tell her how happy he was that she was there. But it was ok, he knew that she knew.

As the vision swarmed in and out of his sight he realised that she was going frantic. He lifted his head as far as he could, confused that she wasn’t radiating calm and warmth and love like she normally did. Dimly he realised that she was trying to free him. “Panel -” he murmured weakly, looking towards the keypad that she needed to use to free him “- there’s a code.”

He fell back, exhausted by the effort.

This wasn’t right. He still felt pain, that was true, but it was supposed to be fleeting, not this empty haze. Perhaps he was broken. Would he stay that way forever? Could The Dark One torture him endlessly? Should he just let go?

Warmth surrounded him. It felt good and right. Reassuring. Safe.

Until it wasn't.

He could feel The Saviour tense. She was frantically talking but he couldn't follow what she was saying. He let her words wash over him, lulling him briefly.

Her grip on him tightened more and more. Until he couldn't help the whimper that spilled from his lips. He felt frail. Insubstantial.

She released him and he fell back against the table.

There were noises. The Saviour's hand grasped his own. There was an earsplitting bang.

The fog returned, denser and more terrible than before.

When the fog cleared he was standing and there was nothing but pain. His knees gave out and he stumbled backwards.

He landed on his back with something soft behind him and a comforting presence above. But it was hard to focus on anything good through the agony. He didn’t know what had happened, just that it was wrong. He’d been rescued, why wasn’t everything better now? He could feel his powers struggling to work, to make things right. The pain was receding but slowly, far too slowly. Maybe this was his end. Maybe Gold had finally broken him.

He felt happiness and security and love rushing through his veins, bringing him back to reality.

He blinked his eyes open - it was her, the Saviour. His Saviour. She had really found him. But she looked sad, worried and desperate.

As he smiled up at her, the distress on her face turned into pure happiness. Was that for him?

“I have to tell you something.” She pulled him upright and he held onto her hands tightly. Perhaps too tightly, but she was real and she was here and he never, ever wanted to let her go. His heart swelled at the love he believed he could see shining out from her, and he waited, desperate to hear what she had to say. Perhaps she would reveal her true identity - or her true feelings for him.

He nodded at her to talk, not trusting his own voice yet.

“I -” he could feel it, her love. She was glowing with it and it was all for him. She loved him and he loved her and everything would be perfect -

“I’m so glad that Gold didn’t kill you.”

Killian hadn’t realised that he was holding his breath until he heard her words and felt himself deflate. Of course. Of course she didn’t love him. How could she? She could barely even look at him now. She scrambled away, muttering about finding Belle and having him checked over, leaving him cold and alone.

What a fool to have hoped for so much more. How could she love him after every terrible thing he had done? She was the happy ending that he truly did not deserve.

Still, her unwillingness to at least share her real name left a bitter taste in his mouth. His secrets were all laid bare for her to see, and yet she was still so secretive. True, he hadn’t ever had the courage to unmask himself, but what need was there for pretense now? Surely he had to know her or why else would she care?

The image of Emma soothing him through his torment sprang to mind, but he cast it aside. There was no way he could be that lucky. And really, what were the chances that two superheroes were working alongside each other in blissful ignorance? The Regina-as-Evil-Queen-as-Bitchy-Boss reveal was unbelievable enough.

No, that couldn’t be it. Surely they hated each other in their real lives and The Saviour was reconsidering having ever been close to him at all.

She was probably the blonde bakery owner who made the amazing frosting that Emma adored. He’d always suspected the girl had a bit of a thing for Emma. She always had a flirtatious smile and a wink for his best friend while her behaviour towards him tended to be rather... icy. The blonde who ran the ice cream store was similarly always happy to see his Swan, while seeming rather cool towards him.

But then, he could hardly blame anyone for warming to Emma, she was like a ray of sunshine and so delightfully unaware of how much she affected those around her. It was all part of her adorably insecure charm.

_Shut up you bloody wanker!_

He was barely done bemoaning the fact that The Saviour wasn’t baring her soul to him when he was lost in lovesick mooning over Emma. He didn’t deserve The Saviour’s secrets, and he certainly didn’t deserve her love.

 

Belle was poking and prodding at him, checking for signs of lasting damage from Gold. He had tried to protest that he felt fine, and there were more urgent matters at hand. But The Librarian made it clear that she was going to check him, even if she had to tie him down to do it.

If she noticed the way that he shuddered at the thought of that, she made no comment.

So instead he lay back listlessly, allowing her attentions and getting lost in the horrific memories that he couldn’t escape from.

_It was the mental torture that was the worst. The pain he could handle, but the psychological tricks were getting to him and he was losing his battle to stay - or at least appear to be - sane._

_“Well dearie as you and I have had so much fun with my Dagger, I thought I’d share the good news with you. On Wednesday there is going to be a press conference to unveil my latest philanthropic endeavour to the world.” He spoke these words with a flourish, brandishing the Dagger, gleefully delighted with himself. “This Dagger is going to change everyone’s lives for the better!” Killian blinked but otherwise remained impassive - and Gold’s impish grin dropped into a snarl. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me, dearie? Afterall, you’re my oldest friend, I thought you might be pleased.”_

_“Congratulations.” Killian’s intoned dispassionately, little caring what the lunatic said. He had lost all sense of time in Gold’s lab. He might have been there for weeks or merely days. “Wednesday” meant nothing to him, but he struggled to retain that information. Perhaps if he were to escape he could use it to help Emma._

_“You haven’t asked what my plans are - worried about spoilers?”_ More like tired of your voice, _Killian thought, but said nothing. “Well I’m going to share them anyway - I’m too excited not to! During the press conference the Dagger is going to go online and everyone will be under my control.”_

_“Why?” Killian couldn’t help himself, he had to know what the point of it all was._

_“Why? Well, why not?” Gold asked, wrinkling his nose at Killian in disgust. “Humans cannot be trusted to take care of themselves and thanks to me, they won’t have to. I will make them eat a proper diet and exercise when they need to. They will all get the vaccinations that they need. I’ll solve the problem of climate change in an instant - no need for anyone to adopt greener habits, they will just have them.”_

_“Are you honestly trying to tell me that you’re doing all of this so that people will turn off the lights and eat their veggies like good little boys and girls? I must say, I’m almost disappointed, Gold.”_

_“You have no vision, Lieutenant. That’s just the start! Soon we’ll be able to ensure that only suitable candidates procreate -”_

_Killian could taste the bile in his throat at this banal statement. As if controlling people’s rights to have children was in the same league as going for a daily jog. “Wait. Who’s going to decide on their suitability? You?” he sneered incredulously._

_“Why not me? Sometimes it takes a visionary to see what must be done. There would be rigorous genetic testing, considerations of family assets and psych evaluations.”_

_“You really think that you can say what it takes to be a good parent? Tell me, how long is it since you’ve seen Baelfire? Do you know where he is these days?”_

_He knew full well that Baelfire’s disappearance had destroyed Gold._

_Gold conjured up a knife and drove it deep into Killian’s heart. He shrieked in pain as his tormenter bent low over him, his face a mask of fury. “You are not worthy to speak his name. Baelfire will return to me.”_

_Blood gushed from Killian as the knife was withdrawn. He gasped, surely he was going to die - not even he could survive thi- the bleeding stopped. He had healed. Killian still felt dizzy and sick from the sudden and extreme blood loss. His face was clammy. He took deep breaths to calm himself._

_“Is that really what this is all about? Manipulating your son into loving you again? That is, assuming he ever did love you.”_

_Killian braced himself for a blow that never came. Instead Gold bent down to his ear and murmured in it, almost sweetly, although his words were laced with venom. “I expect you’d know all about that. How old were you when your father sold you? Don’t you think the world would be a better place if men like your father simply didn’t want to breed?”_

_Killian shut down his emotions and focussed on sarcasm. “Why, then I wouldn’t be here to taunt you, would I, Gold? Whyever would I want that?”_

_“Do you really think that the world needs more people like you? You're nothing but a one handed traitor with a drinking problem - hardly a great role model.”_

_“I’m sure that Milah would have said it does.” Killian taunted with a smirk, ignoring the whispers within him that agreed with Gold. They told him how worthless he was, how the world would be better off without him, reminding him of all the people he’d hurt, all the lives he’d ruined…_

_“Such a shame that my dearly departed wife cannot speak for you then, isn’t it, dearie?”_

_“So I’m guessing that as I don’t fit your new world order, I’ll be the first to go when it arrives? Why not save me the wait and get right to it now?”_

_Gold gasped in mock horror, clutching a hand to his chest. “And make you miss all the fun? Oh no, no, no. I want you to watch as my vision comes to life. I want you to see how happy I make the world so you know how wrong you are. I want to hear you weep to know that you are powerless to stop me.”_

_“I won’t give you the satisfaction.”_

_“I’m sure if I continue to do this you will.” Gold jabbed his knife into Killian’s arm, causing him to cry out in pain._

_“Not sure that counts, Gold,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “And you may think the people are happy, but that’s because you are delusional.”_

_“Oh Killian, when will you understand? People are sheep. They just need a shepherd to guide them to the light.”_

_Gold beamed at him beatifically, as he stabbed him over and over again, preventing him from dismissing his messianic rhetoric as bullshit._

“Killian, are you alright?” He looked up at the sound of Belle’s voice. “You look upset, do you want me to get The Saviour? She’s worried sick about you.”

Killian had to force down a smile at this sign that The Saviour did actually care about him. He had to focus. “No. Belle, you need to assemble the Nevengers. We’re running out of time to save the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Let me know in the comments or over on tumblr @katie-dub :) [The latest chapter is up there now.](https://katie-dub.tumblr.com/post/164859093557/the-masks-we-wear-9)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Previously on The Masks We Wear...** _   
>  _Emma AKA The Saviour has learned the truth about Killian AKA Hook AKA The Survivor’s alter ego and rescued him from Gold’s clutches, but when the time came to reveal her own secret identity, her anxiety took over and she kept her silence. Having just barely survived his encounter with The Dark One, Killian doesn’t have time to wallow over unrequited revelations - in just three days time his nemesis plans to take over the world._   
>  _Of course she'd fallen so hard for The Survivor, she was already in love with him._   
>  _“I’m so glad that Gold didn’t kill you.”_   
>  _He didn’t deserve The Saviour’s secrets, and he certainly didn’t deserve her love._   
>  _“Belle, you need to assemble the Nevengers. We’re running out of time to save the world.”_

Killian hated reliving his ordeal even for long enough to share what he'd learned with Belle. He talked fast to get it all out as quickly as possible, finding that it did feel a little good to not have the thoughts of Regina's enslavement, Gold's plan and his sincere wish to see Killian suffer rattling around his brain.

“I should have known my past mistakes would come back to haunt me,” he said wryly when he was done.

Belle smiled at him kindly and reached out a hand to give his a squeeze. “Loving Milah was not a mistake, don't ever apologise for having love in your heart.”

He bit back a reply asking if that's what she told herself about Gold - the sad, sympathetic look she was giving him made it clear that she did.

The silence between them was long and heavy, both lost in their contemplations of how something that should be so beautiful and pure had come to this. It was Belle who came around first. “You know we need to alert the others, we can't wait around for Gold to do his worst.”

“Aye.” Killian nodded his agreement. “What should we do about Regina? This may not be her fault, but we can't get her involved if she's still being forced to be Gold’s Evil Queen puppet.”

“True - and we really need her knowledge and skills to help our cause. What we know about Gold is surely horribly out of date.” Belle chewed her lip thoughtfully. “There's something we can try. I've been working on a prototype of a machine to counteract the Dagger’s effects using blueprint that we have. If we can get her here -”

“We can break the spell! Belle, you're a genius!”

“You only just working that out?” Belle teased, “and I thought you were smart.”

Killian quirked a brow at her snark in the face of impending disaster. It was a tactic that was all too familiar to him, a mask to hide the fear. “We can't all be as clever as you, love,” he shot back. “That's why we're all happy to have you to think up promising plans on our behalf.”

“Kiss ass.” Belle rolled her eyes but looked grateful for the support nonetheless. “We can tell Regina to arrive early and try it on her then. We’ll need to move her into the holding room in case it doesn’t work - can’t have her poofing out of here and telling Gold our plans.” She looked at him appraisingly. “You should stay out of the way too - until we know his hold over her is gone she can’t know that we’ve rescued you.”

“I think Gold is aware of that by now.”

“But he doesn’t know exactly where you are. The less he knows, the better. In fact -” she frowned and cocked her head, studying him “- you may be best off staying here until we’ve dealt with him.”

His hackles were up instantly. He’d never been one to hide from danger, preferring to confront it head on, his personal safety be damned. (It’s not like he had much to fear in that respect, his powers being what they were.) And now, so soon after he had spent days shackled to a table - she clearly wasn’t thinking about what she was saying. He clenched his jaw in a studied effort to keep from screaming at his friend. “You want me to exchange one prison for another? Forgive me if I’d prefer freedom.”

“Even if it means death?” Belle asked pointedly, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Well that’s hardly likely,” was his defiant answer. “Don’t you remember who I am?”

She huffed out a sigh, closing her eyes in a gesture he knew to mean she was searching for some inner strength. “Killian, I know that Gold wishes you dead, and what Gold wants, he usually gets. I’m saying that it would be prudent - in the interests of your safety - and of _those you love_ to be discreet. I don’t plan to tie you up.”

Right. Those he loved. The Saviour. _Emma._ She might be hurt if Gold thought she was the best way to get to him - especially now that he had been unmasked. He nodded, placated, and looked at Belle with a cheeky grin. “Not even in the good way?”

Belle sighed deeply. “I’ll call in the troops, you should get some rest.”

“Aye, I’ll have a shower, wash off the just been tortured feeling.”

“Killian -” she began, looking alarmed and overwhelmingly sympathetic. “It’s fine, love,” he cut her off, “just a little gallows humour. I’m fine.”

He really wasn’t fine.

He felt grimy inside and out, his skin was coated in a layer of dried blood, drool and other questionable fluids. It felt good to wash, but it was as though the dirt had worked its way deeper, burrowing into his pores, crawling beneath his skin. He could wash forever and he might never be free of the feeling of Gold torturing him, the manic delight in his eyes would forever be imprinted on his brain.

His eyes burned, his head pounded and the world seemed to swim in and out of focus after days of little to no sleep. He remembered how his subconscious had brought Emma and The Saviour to his side in the brief moments when he could sleep. He smiled to himself - they were both with him, comforting him, protecting his soul, saving him from madness. Almost. He had thought he really had seen Emma standing before him, horror struck, before Gold’s torture wrenched screams from his throat and drove the hallucination from his sight. It was what made it so hard for him to believe that The Saviour had really come to his rescue when she appeared; although his faith in her was deep - he certainly had more for her than  for himself - his mind had been playing cruel tricks on him.

He sighed, locked away the painful memories, and focused on the feeling of the hot water pounding on his skin.

He lost track of time under the spray. The hot water couldn't truly cure his troubles but it did ease them somewhat. When he finally switched the shower off, he felt refreshed, and able to face his superhero duties again, however much his head still spun with exhaustion.

He dressed in a tshirt and sweats that he kept stashed in a locker at the base for training in, relishing the feeling of the soft, warm fleece against his skin. Feeling somewhat human again he made his way towards the control room in search of Belle. He needed to move quickly to end things with Gold for good if they stood any chance of succeeding - if he stood any chance of making it through the encounter unscathed.

He was just about to step into the room when a voice made him stop; was Regina already in there?

Cautiously he peered around the doorway and saw Regina chatting to The Saviour and Belle. The Saviour caught sight of him and her eyes went wide with horror for a split second before she regained her mask of composure.

Right, they hadn’t solved the Regina Problem yet.

He backed away, treading softly to ensure that he wasn’t heard, and went in the direction of the break room.  He should probably try to get some sleep but he was buzzing and he was on edge. He needed to punch something - ideally some bad guy, ideally in person - but as that wasn’t really an option while he was confined to HQ, he’d settle for doing some damage in a video game.

Perhaps Henry would join him, although he was sure the kid should be in bed. (And yeah, technically he wasn’t a _child_ and he was more than capable of his superhero duties, but the lad was only 16, he wasn’t sure it was fair to place the weight of saving the world on his shoulders, however useful they might find his abilities. He just had to wonder at the parents who would allow their teenager to engage in such dangerous missions - or simply failed to notice his absence - he wasn’t entirely sure which was worse. Something about his time in Gold’s lab had brought back painful memories of a childhood as an orphan and being made to grow up too fast and dammit if he didn’t hate that Henry was going through that now himself.)

“Sup, Survivor?” He’d gotten lost in his thoughts, not even noticing that he’d made it to the break room already and sure enough he found Henry there. “Or should I say Killian?”

Killian started, unused to hearing his real name coming from Henry. He blinked at him. “What?”

“The Saviour mentioned that might be your real name? Sorry. Um, is that still a secret? I mean you’re unmasked now anyway so I figured - fuck, I’m making a mess of this.”

He laughed at Henry in spite of himself. “It’s ok, nice to meet you Henry, I’m Killian.” He stuck his hand out for Henry to shake.

Henry breathed a deep sigh of relief and shook his hand. “So you know The Saviour in real life? Crazy, huh?”

“Did she happen to mention how?” he tried to sound casual, but if the look on Henry's face was anything to go by, it hadn't worked. He wasn't sure if an expression could actually be sarcastic, but if so, Henry's was absolutely sarcastic, not to mention confused.

“You mean you don't know?” he said. Killian tried not to huff, The Saviour was a superhero, she was good at disguises, just like he was. Their real lives depended on it. Henry started to laugh. “Wow - you really don't, do you? How is that fucking possible - I actually thought you were smart?”

“I came here looking for something to punch - figured we could play some Bayonetta, but if you're volunteering…” He smiled at Henry, with the faintest glimmer of a threat in his eyes. Henry held his hands up in defeat, then grabbed Killian's controller and tossed it at him.

“Killian, are you seeing anyone?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

He stared at Henry, confused by the change in subject. “What? Uh- um. No. Why do you ask?”

“It's just The Saviour she -” he looked like he was struggling to find the right words. “Well, she seems like she really, like maybe -”

Killian was utterly lost. “Maybe what, mate?”

“I thought maybe you were together. I don't know. I don't know what I'm talking about.”

“What? No. I -” Killian stopped. He was bewildered by this line of questioning and found himself wondering once again who The Saviour was to him. But that brought to mind the moment in the hospital bay when she failed to tell him her real identity. She didn't trust him and it hurt too much to wonder why. Instead he tried to deflect the conversation. “I just find that girlfriends don't really mix well with superhero duties.”

“Really? I've never thought that.”

“And what would you know? You aren't using your superhero status to impress the ladies are you?”

“No, who'd do that?” Henry shook his head at the suggestion, his expression so world weary that Killian had to stifle a laugh. “I do have a girlfriend though.”

“Oh yeah? I like the sound of this already.” He smirked at Henry, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, Violet.” He glanced over at Killian then shrugged. “She's cool, maybe we don’t have some kind of fairytale romance like Snow and David have going on, but who does?” He had a slightly dreamy, faraway look in his eye. Killian always liked it when Henry showed his romantic side, even if he usually tried to cover it up with layers of swearing and sarcasm. But the glimpses he did catch in between the teen angst made it clear why Henry had the power to make anyone believe.

“Weren’t we talking about your love life? I’m sure you’re deflecting here.”

“Henry, I -” he stopped. He didn’t know what to say. “The Saviour could have told me who she is, but she hasn’t. She doesn’t want me to know. Clearly I’m not a person she wants to be involved with.”

“That’s a bit of a leap, man. Can you say Extra?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he huffed.

“Not everything is about you. Perhaps she’s not someone you would want to be involved with -” Killian opened his mouth to argue “- or she thinks she’s not.”

“She’s far too good for me. Whoever she is.”

Henry sighed. “You’re both as bad as each other.” He turned back to the game and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I should make you both believe in yourselves.”

Killian didn’t really know what more to say. The thought that The Saviour might think herself somehow as unworthy of him didn’t compute. She was a goddess amongst men. He was too tired to try to analyse this most bizarre of thoughts. Instead he focused on gaming, letting the bright lights and colours fill his mind and overtake his senses.

 

“Guys?” Killian blinked up at Belle in confusion, unclear how long he’d been lost in the flow of the game. “You ready to talk saving the world? Everyone’s here.”

“Everyone?” he asked, meaningfully. Belle nodded. Regina was back on their side.

When they made it to the control room everyone was milling around the room. His eyes rested on The Saviour who looked unhappy and agitated - he tried to catch her eye and give her a reassuring smile, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. It felt like a knife to his heart. Despite what Henry might believe, he was certain that he was the problem in their - well, in whatever their relationship was.

What an idiot he was - in love with two women - one whom he shouldn’t date for her safety and one who wouldn’t want to date him.

“Hook - I mean Jones.” Regina’s voice dragged his attention away from his wallowing. She looked deeply uncomfortable, arms folded across her chest and perfectly manicured nails drumming against her forearms.

“Yes?”

“I want to apologise to you for - well, for leading you into that trap. I -”

Killian saw a flash of the lab he’d been tortured in. He felt the restraints on his wrists and ankles, the terror in his bones, the agony of every experiment. They made him dizzy. He squeezed his eyes to shut out the memories.

“Please don’t, Regina.” He cut her off. And while partly it was out of kindness, knowing her to be blameless, he also couldn’t bear to think of those awful few days. “I know that you weren’t in control of your actions.”

“Still I hate to think of you -”

“Then don’t. Really.” He plastered on a falsely cheerful grin, desperate to change the subject. “So, what are the chances that two superheroes were working together without ever realising it?”

Regina laughed taking his bait with relief. “I should have guessed it was you the moment we first met, Jones. No one else could be that cocky.”

“Oh please, I’m a master of disguise and I’m very humble in my normal life. It’s one of my best qualities.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

Regina groaned, apparently coming to a realisation. “That night you persuaded me to join the Nevengers, I said Killian was - that you were - Emma's boyfriend. I don't appreciate being treated like a fool,” she huffed.

“If the horribly overpriced designer heel fits…” he said, trailing off under Regina’s cold glare. He rubbed his brow and pinched his nose while he reconsidered his mockery. “My apologies, lass, but I was not mocking you then: Emma and I are just good friends.”

“Don't be a, what would you say? a bloody fool, you two aren't _just_ anything.”

“You ever considered a career as a couple's therapist?”

“Listen to me or not, I don't care, Jones, just make sure this little “will they, won't they,” love triangle soap opera bullshit you have with Emma and The Saviour doesn't interfere with the mission, OK?”

“You always were so supportive, Regina, you know that?”

“Regina, Killian, are you ready to talk business? This is kind of important.” He couldn’t help but feel relieved at Belle’s interruption. This was the second uncomfortable discussion about his relationship status that he’d had today - he was more than a little tired at his fellow superheroes’ insistence on putting his love life under the microscope. It was hardly the time or place.

As he joined the Nevengers at their table he realised with alarm that The Saviour might have overheard his conversation with Regina. He looked over to her but she was studiously ignoring him. It was hard to be sure if she had heard him as it was no more than she'd been doing since he stepped foot in the room. He frowned hard and tried not to brood on dark thoughts of how unworthy he was of her.

Killian struggled to concentrate throughout the serious planning discussions that took place around him. Regina was able to volunteer as much - if not more - information than he had so he was able to largely sit and let his mind wander. He caught the general gist of things: they needed to act fast so the decision was made to strike tomorrow, they had devised a plan that should spell the end for Gold. He didn’t overly care about the fine details at this point.

One point did make him sit up and take note - Henry was going to have to head into the field. He had been fiddling on his laptop and declared that whatever back door he had used to shutdown the force field that interrupted their powers had been locked tight. Their only chance was for Henry to enter the building and work on the computer system directly.

Killian was instantly on alert. Henry felt like the little brother he’d never had and while he’d always been involved in their superhero activities, he’d never had to enter the fray like this, always able to help them out behind the scenes.

Killian sat up straight. “Is that wise?” “I don’t know, kid.” “That’s far too dangerous!” He, The Saviour and Regina had all spoken at once. Henry rolled his eyes at their overprotective defence of him.

“Look, if we’re going to take Gold out, you need your powers. We only have two cuffs. What else can we do?”

“I can protect Henry,” David spoke up. “I don’t need my powers to defend us both, and when he gets that shield down he’ll have twice as many bodyguards. Regina, if you keep your cuff and Henry takes Killian’s you can poof us into their computer rooms right?”

“See? It’ll be fine.” Henry said.

Killian sighed and looked over at The Saviour and Regina. Neither of them looked any more comfortable than he did, but still it was the only way. He hated it though. He wondered if this was how Liam used to feel watching him enter fighting pits: desperate to protect him, but powerless to do anything.

Oh God. Thinking of Liam and how he’d been sent to his death by Gold did little to assuage his fears at this time. Henry was not Liam. He knew the challenges that he was facing. He would have David with him. He would be ok.

He had to be ok, or Killian would kill Gold and make The Saviour bring him back to life so he could kill him all over again.

 

When everything was finally decided for the next day, he stood up to leave when Belle stopped him, looking awkward. “I still don’t know about you leaving here today, Killian.”

He blinked at her in surprise. “I'm not sleeping here tonight,” he said bluntly. He wouldn't explain himself, didn't want to share his trauma with the group, but the sterile hospital bay felt just a little too much like Gold’s lab for comfort. He gazed at Belle defiantly, challenging her to disagree with him.

“I'll poof you out.”

It took a moment for The Saviour's words to register. He looked at her curiously. “Come again?”

“I can - I can poof you out.” She quickly looked away from him and turned to Belle. “You're worried about him being seen? If I take TS home -” Killian noted curiously that she didn’t use his real name, despite clearly knowing it “- he won't be. Can do a few spells to keep him safe and I'll bring him back here in the morning.” She looked from him to Belle and shrugged.

“If you wanted to spend the night in my bed, you only have to ask. I'm sure we'll need to use - I mean, I need to have, protection.” She rolled her eyes but kept her eyes locked on Belle, while he poked his tongue in his cheek suggestively.

“Whatever, I'll do the spells and run.”

A dozen more flirty taunts ran through his mind, but she still wasn’t looking at him and he was tired. Too tired for it all.

“Well? Can I be released? I'm sure if Gold really wants me dead it won't matter where I sleep.”

Belle frowned at his poor attempt at humour. “Fine, but seriously, let The Saviour protect you, okay?”

He turned to The Saviour. “Come now, love, my life is in your hands.” He meant it as a casual comment, but it felt far too close to the truth.

She took his hand in hers, a cloud of smoke surrounded them, and when it cleared they were in his apartment.

He expected her to let go of him at once, but she lingered, her fingers gently stroking his hand before she parted from him with a sigh.

“I'll just -” she motioned around vaguely “- set up some protection spells.”

“Thanks. And I'll... I'll be in my room. Checking my phone. Seeing if I was missed.” A curious expression flashed across The Saviour's face. His heart clenched, had he just insulted her by suggesting that she hadn't missed him? But, it wasn't as though they saw each other every day. In fact, how had she known to come looking for him?

He stepped inside and looked around curiously. Someone had been here. Or had he left the room in a mess? It wasn't like him to do that but he'd had a lot on his mind the day he left on his ill-fated mission. His bed was unmade and his closet open. Clothes had been roughly pushed to one side and his secret compartment was open. This was incredibly careless. Had he really left his secrets exposed like this? He shook his head, he was exhausted and not thinking straight. That was all that was happening here. It must be. Surely.

He took his phone from out of his bedside table and switched it on, busying himself with straightening up the room while it started up. It buzzed right off the table with the alerts of missed calls and texts. Only one of each from Emma.

“Thanks for telling me about your last minute vacation. I hope that you’re enjoying yourself.”

He read Emma's message several times, until it clicked that Regina had probably been forced to explain away his absence. He clenched his jaw in frustration. He'd been suffering and she'd believed him to be sunning himself in a beach somewhere? That hurt.

“Um, TS?” He looked up as The Saviour peered around his door. “I'm finished. I should probably go.”

 _I'd feel safer if you stayed._ He longed to tell her. Hell, why not go full on cheesy romance novel while he was at it? _Let's tear off the masks we wear, and let our hearts beat as one as we make passionate love._

Yeah, no. That wasn't going to happen. She continued to hide herself from him and however much that hurt, he had to accept her decision. What exactly was he thinking might happen? That they'd cosy up on the couch with her in full superhero gear? That she'd happily curl up in bed with him with her face still concealed? It was absurd and yet he wanted her with him.

“Thanks.” He felt awkward and desperate for her to stay. He switched to an old tactic - beating down his feelings with innuendo. “If you'd like to stay the night I'll be sure to show you how grateful I am.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“Yeah, right,” she said dismissively, giving him a forced smile.

“I might need protecting in bed. Is leaving a risk you're willing to take?”

“Goodnight, Survivor.” She disappeared in a cloud of smoke and he was left alone wishing desperately that he could tell her how much he really wanted her. He may have been unmasked but he was still disguising himself around her.

 

Considering how tired he was, sleep should have come easily. He knew that he needed to be on top form to live through a confrontation with Gold. But the memories of his days of torture were there every time he closed his eyes. Late into the night he tossed and turned, consumed by anxiety.

The beast took such pleasure from his pain that despite the cavalier attitude that he maintained with the Nevengers, he was nervous about his fate. He didn't want to get lost in such worries, but Gold’s vindictiveness was limitless and he had escaped from him. He shuddered to think what might happen if he fell into Gold’s clutches again.

He tried to force thoughts of his ordeal from his mind. When that didn't work he remembered the moments when he felt like Emma was with him.

Emma.

He'd say she must be worried sick, but, no, she thought he'd disappeared on a trip. He couldn't blame her for that, Regina could be very convincing and she was used to being abandoned.

A terrible thought struck him. If something were to happen to him, he would be just another name on the list of people who abandoned her.

He had to talk to her, she had to know his secrets before their mission, she had to know that he wouldn't leave willingly.

He almost lept to his feet in his eagerness to confess. Perhaps if he told her, she would permit him to hold her tonight and draw comfort from her presence. He might actually get the sleep he so desperately needed. But it was too early to bother her for his own selfish reasons and deep down he knew that if he woke up with her in his arms he wouldn't ever let her go. He'd happily let the world burn if she consented to be his. She deserved better, The Saviour had taught him better.

No, he would call her tomorrow, before their mission. Perhaps the conversation would be better in person, but respect for The Saviour’s protection - and the certainty that he wouldn't be strong enough to leave Emma if he saw her - meant a phone call would have to suffice. If he were to be captured again, at least she would truly know how much he had cared.

With the decision made he was able to fall asleep, dreaming of holding Emma close at last.

 

He checked his watch, not long until The Saviour came to collect him. He really hadn’t meant to leave this until the last minute, but he’d overslept. He scrubbed his hand through his hair in distress. Maybe telling her now, over the phone, when he had so little time to talk wasn’t the best plan.

But when he considered the possibility that he may end the day back in Gold’s lab - or worse - he knew he had to make the call.

He picked up his phone and hit Emma's number. He gathered his courage as the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Morning, Swan. Did you miss me?” He winced at his own forced bravado.

“I. Um. I...”

His heart fell at her spluttering. “Oh, I see, didn't even notice I was gone?”

“No! I noticed! I…”

He closed his eyes, what was he teasing her for? It wasn't fair and he didn't have time for it. “You know, that doesn't really matter. I called to explain where I've been.”

“You weren't on vacation?” There was a strange note to her voice that he couldn't explain.

“No. You see, I'm - I'm Hook, or The Survivor, depending on who you ask.” He paused to see if she would react but was met with nothing but silence. “I know it's a lot to take in, but I didn't abandon you, Emma. I was. Well. I was captured. I would never deliberately leave you without a word, I couldn't do that to you. I know you're good at knowing when someone is lying to you, so please believe me.”

His words came out in a rush and he was tense, waiting for her verdict.

“I do. Believe you, that is.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you -”

“Why are you telling me now?”

“I'm off to save the world, it's a dangerous job. I'm sure you understand.”

“Yeah, but. Don't you do that a lot?”

“Been keeping up on my alter ego's exploits? You're not a superhero groupie, are you? I remember the time I caught you reading that magazine article about me.”

He could practically hear her roll her eyes. “I just want to know why this time is different.”

 _Because I'm scared. Because I could save the world but lose you. Because I don't know what Gold will do to me this time._ “I just want to be honest with you.”

“Well I -” Killian's Nevengers phone beeped. _Right, showtime._

“Sorry to cut you off, but I have to go. We can talk when I'm back.”

“OK…” He was about to hang up when he heard a small “Killian?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't disappear again.”

“As you wish,” he replied with a chuckle. If only it were that easy.

“I mean it, come back to me.”

His eyes softened at the sincere request. He wished that he were with her, he wanted to kiss her so badly. After. He'd kiss her when he returned with no secrets and no lies between them. “Of course, Swan, you don't need to fret, I'm The Survivor.”

“Good,” she said simply and hung up.

He stared at his phone for a minute, stunned by how easy that had been. God, why hadn't he just told her sooner? He turned off his phone and slid it into his bedside table, his first mission of the day completed.

Now all that was left was saving the world.

 

***

 

Emma slumped into a couch in HQ, she was exhausted and should really go to bed. But she was too wired to do that, and suspected it would be a long time before she'd be able to stop fidgeting.

At very least, she needed to stay for long enough to know if Killian was alright. There was no chance that she could relax as long as she had the thought that he might still be in pain niggling away at her.

“You did good, Saviour.” She turned to see Henry dropping down beside her and gave him an unsure smile. “Seriously. You saved your man, you can sleep now.”

“He's not my man.” Her reply was automatic, but the words made her heart clench painfully. She hated how true that was.

“Right,” Henry chuckled, “so we're just going to pretend that you don't have to just say the word and you'd be together? It’s a choice. Not one I’d go with, but it’s a choice.”

Emma barely registered his words, drumming her hand against the couch beside her. Sparks flew as she hit the surface harder and harder. She didn't even notice until Henry put his hand over hers. She looked up at him, feeling a wave of guilt as she noticed the grimace that crossed his face. She'd hurt him and she felt like a monster.

“I'm sorry, Henry!” she blurted out.

“It's nothing.” She frowned at him, highly skeptical that that could be true. “What's wrong, Saviour?”

“You really think he's going to be OK? Killian - I mean, TS?”

He shrugged. “Sure, he's invulnerable, isn't he?”

“Yeah.” She chewed on her lip.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Gold can block powers, can’t he? Or take them away altogether? What if he does that to Killian?”

“I have something to say that you maybe aren’t going to want to hear.” Emma looked at him. “Gold had The Survivor - or did you say his name’s Killian?”

“Yeah.”

“Right, he had Killian for three days. Three days. He could have easily done all those things you just mentioned in that time, but he didn’t. I think Gold needs him alive for some reason.”

“But he could still hurt him!”

“He could. And if he does, you’ll save him. That’s what you do, right?”

“I guess.”

“Hey, stop that. What do they call you?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. What do they call you?”

“The Saviour.”

“And why do they call you that?”

“I told them I’d wipe them all out with my powers if they didn’t.” He cocked his head at her and quirked a brow. “They nailed me to a cross.” He sighed. “OK, because I save people.”

“Right, so it turns out that The Survivor, who you have some kind of weird romantic thing with, is this guy Killian, who also seems to be special to you, and you expect me to believe that you wouldn’t march right down into the underworld itself if that’s what it would take to save him? Come on, have a little faith in yourself.”

She was about to answer when Belle’s voice rang out over her phone. “Saviour, can you meet me in the hospital bay?”

“Sure thing.” She smiled at Henry. “Thanks for the pep talk it, er, it helped.”

She poofed herself into the hospital bay and was confronted by the sight of Belle with bloody sheets in her arms.

She closed her eyes in disgust, that was his blood. Killian’s blood. Killian's blood had painted the sheets crimson. God, how much had he been through?

“Deep breath, Saviour. You're glowing.” Emma opened her eyes and was surprised to find Belle stood before her. The sheets had vanished and she had her hands on Emma's shoulders. She watched her intently.

Emma could see herself surrounded by a near-blinding aura reflected in Belle’s eyes. She worked on breathing in and out, noticing as the light dimmed and eventually disappeared entirely.

“Killian's OK.” Emma's scepticism must have been written all over her face. “I can give you the full medical prognosis if you like?”

“Wow, you're a doctor too?”

“Well, I read a book.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. “I absorb skills from them remember?”

Emma shook her head, smiling. “How are you not running the world?”

“Patriarchy.”

“You and Beyoncé will fix that soon I'm sure. So, what did you want?”

“The Survivor explained The Dark One's plan -”

“How does he know it?”

“He was monologuing.” Belle rolled her eyes. “Classic super villain crap. Anyway we need to act fast and we need Regina fighting for us again -”

“But she's under his control.”

“I've created a device that should be able to counteract the effects of the Dagger, the A.C.E. -”

“Ace?” Emma pulled a face at the stupidity of the name.

“Anti Control Equipment?” Belle shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “The name doesn’t matter. Until we know if it's worked we'll have to play it safe - treat Regina with caution and keep her away from Killian.”

Emma's skin crawled at this mention of Killian her magic writhing in alarm.

“Wait, you think she'd hurt Killian? But.. but.. why would she do that? She couldn't do that, right?”

“Hopefully not, but I don't like to assume - Gold always had it in for Killian and now that he's escaped.. Well, best case scenario she takes him back to Gold.”

“And what's the worst?”

Belle couldn't look her in the eye. “Well, she - she kills him for Gold.”

Emma looked stunned at the thought. “But she can't do that, right? I mean he's - he can't be killed, right?”

“It's not a risk I'm willing to take.” Belle looked grim and Emma's heart beat wildly at the thought. Belle looked down at Emma's hand and she was surprised to note that her skin was glowing. But then, she shouldn't have been surprised, her magic always threatened to revolt when Killian's safety came into question. When she looked back up to Belle’s eyes she was watching Emma cautiously, but shook herself and got straight back to business. “The plan is that we tell her that we need to run tests using a holding cell to work out if I can counteract the forcefield on Gold’s base with a device I've made. We know it’s actually the A.C.E. and that it should actually break Gold’s power over her… Well, that's the idea anyway."

Emma tried to keep her breathing steady to avoid completely losing her cool. She didn't really understand what she had to do with this plan. "What do you need me for Belle?" she asked as evenly as she could muster.

"We tell Regina that I'll run tests on both of you but really you're there to back me up. If anything does go wrong I'm going to need your help."

Emma thought of Killian lying on that table. She knew it wasn't actually Regina's fault; that she had been a weapon that Gold had wielded against them; that she was likely to be as angry as them all - if not more so after being used as a puppet. But still, she had years of suffering at Regina's hands in the office and off clearing up the Evil Queen's messes, it was hard not to let the weight of that get to her. She thought of all the times Regina had told her off in her dismissive and icy way - the one that made it clear that she didn't think Emma was worthy of her time - and she felt the rage bubbling up inside.

“You're happy for me to do whatever it takes to stop her if she goes all Evil Queen on us?”

“Saviour, I'm counting on it.”

“Great so when are w-” Emma broke off as the room filled with purple smoke that surely signalled Regina's impending arrival. Belle’s eyes widened in alarm. If she was here early it could only mean one thing: Gold had sent her.

The sudden fear in Emma joined forces with her anger, leaving her itching for a fight.

The mist around her was thinning and it was clear that Regina had come alone, if she had come for a fight she would have brought her minions. Gold clearly needed her to play double agent - so she needed to think everything was well.

Emma took a quiet, calming breath, soothing her magic even as it hissed with rage at the unwelcome sight.

“Regina! I was just about to call you,” Belle said with a smile. “I have great news: I have invented a device, the A.C.E. -” Regina raised her eyebrows at the name, Emma had to cough to suppress a laugh. Belle ignored both of them.  “- that will allow us to keep our powers in any conditions. It'll mean that we can all infiltrate Gold’s HQ instead of just you and The Survivor when we have a second run at that mission.”

“I'm glad to see that you have found something useful to do.”

Emma frowned at Regina. Even when she was supposed to be on their side she still found a way to undermine her fellow superheroes. _Who hurt you?_ she found herself wondering - not for the first time.

“I'd like your help running some tests on the A.C.E..” Belle carried on as if Regina hadn't been an insulting mix of patronising and dismissive. Emma marvelled at her ability to stay calm in the face of such a slight. “Regina, I'd like you to transport the two of us to our holding cell, Emma, you come alone. You shouldn't be able to get in assuming that the forcefield is working correctly.”

“Are you testing _me,_ bookworm?”

“Merely checking that our defences are working so we know for sure whether the A.C.E. has worked or if our forcefield was just down.” Belle’s tone was still polite but her clenched jaw betrayed her irritation with Regina.

“Fine.” Regina took Belle’s hand and they vanished in a cloud of purple smoke.

Emma sighed with relief, she had taken the bait. She closed her eyes and attempted to poof herself to the cell. She had the strange feeling of knocking into something hard, she bounced off it and landed in a heap on the floor. She looked up, Regina arched a brow at her, but contented herself with shaking her head.

Emma's eyes narrowed and a childish image of using her powers to fly pencils at Regina while she ran away shrieking, her trademark composure gone. She smiled at the thought. Many a brutal dressing down at work had been survived only thanks to such visions.

“Have either of you seen Hook?”

The question brought Emma’s attention back to the here and now - and she was startled to see that Regina was already in the holding cell, with the door shut tight behind her.

“Not since last Tuesday,” said Belle.

“Same.” Emma narrowed her eyes at Regina. _So, Gold sent her to find Killian._ “Why?”

“Wanted to reschedule our reconnaissance mission after we had to cancel on Wednesday - unless you’d prefer it if we gave up on defeating The Dark One altogether?”

 _Strange how I can’t tell that’s a lie,_ Emma thought to herself. _Maybe it’s because she doesn’t know she’s lying?_ Whatever the reason for her failure to detect the lie with Regina in her current state, it made her uneasy. She was too easy to manipulate if her power had loopholes - especially ones that she didn’t even know about.

 _And people get hurt when your powers fail,_ hissed the little devil inside who was always there to remind her of her shortcomings. _Nothing bad would’ve happened to Killian if your powers worked properly._

“... Shall we get started?” Once again Emma had lost the train of conversation. She was too tired for this. She had to focus on the task at hand - getting Regina back to her usual sassy but helpful self.

“I’m ready,” said Regina in answer to Belle. She had her arms folded across her chest and she looked bored.

Belle took out the A.C.E., it looked just like a sleek retractable pen. Emma grinned, impressed by the old school spy vibe the design gave the A.C.E. “Nice one, Q.”

“Thanks.” Belle grinned, clearly pleased with her handiwork.

“What exactly am I meant to - oh.” While Regina talked, Belle had pointed the A.C.E. at her and clicked the button. Emma watched as her expression transformed from disinterested to confused to downright horrified. “Oh God. Hook. What have I done?” She walked up to the thick glass separating them and looked desperately from Belle to Emma. “Please tell me that he’s OK. I didn’t mean to - I really am trying to change.”

“We know. Gold used the Dagger on you, didn’t he?” Belle asked and she nodded in reply. “The Survivor is recovering.” She looked unconvinced. “He's OK, Regina. I promise.”

“Gold is furious. If I found him here I was to bring him straight back. He's got half his minions out looking for him.”

“You'd better get back to him then - we'll be meeting later to discuss strategy. We need to move quickly. I'll let you know when.”

Regina nodded, flicked her wrist and nothing happened. She looked at her hand in confusion and tried again. Emma smirked, taking childish glee from the sight.

“Regina?” Belle said, “you're in a cell that blocks powers. I'm sorry, but I couldn't risk you being on the loose if the A.C.E. didn't work.”

Regina huffed and walked to the door, Belle hit a button and it sprang open, she stepped outside and with a curt nod to each of them, disappeared.

“So, what now?” Emma asked Belle.

“Tea?”

Emma nodded. “As long as we can just act like I didn't discover Gold doing his crazy scientist routine on my best friend, who bizarrely turns out to be the superhero I fight crime with. I will pay good money to talk about literally anything else.”

Belle laughed. “Don't worry, we don't have to have a deep and meaningful conversation, I'll settle for tea and silence if that's all you want.”

“Then let's do this.”

 

Emma should really have been paying attention to the mission talk, but she was exhausted, still reeling from the night's revelation and following traumatic events. She contributed and she did take in all the important details: Gold had a very important event the following morning and they should take advantage of his absence to infiltrate his HQ. They just needed to find his Dagger - the original - and then they'd be able to control him. And they were going to use that control to make him use his own weapons against himself and remove his own powers.

So, of course, Henry had deemed the mission Operation Kryptonite.

Speaking of Henry, the news that he was going to have to go into the field with them didn't sit right with her - or Killian or Regina apparently. (She would wonder at the Evil Queen's attachment to Henry, if she didn't know him to be charming, funny and - most importantly - friendly to all - despite the potty mouth.)

She knew that she herself had left home at 16 and was in no position to judge; but a bit of shoplifting and sleeping in a stolen car were hardly as dangerous as going up against the most evil super villain she'd ever encountered. She saw Henry as the brother she never had and the thought of him in danger brought out a maternal side to her that she was surprised to discover she had. Somehow she'd assumed being abandoned at just a few hours old meant any motherly impulses she might have otherwise had were forcibly removed by the trauma. It was nice to know that she was wrong about that.

Still, her nerves over Henry's hands-on involvement were nothing to the dread that filled her when the time came to leave.

“I still don’t know about you leaving here today, Killian.”

Emma's heart clenched at the implications of Belle’s words. She had a sudden vision of Killian strapped to that table - a violent image that was so much worse than any horror her anxiety had conjured up in the months since she'd realised that she loved him and that she had to keep her distance to keep him safe - and almost vomited at the thought.

 _Protect him,_ her magic hissed at her, for she knew if anything bad were to happen to him she would surely die herself.

Funny how learning her best friend - the man she loved - was invulnerable had done nothing to ease her anxiety over his safety. If anything, knowing how much danger he was in on a nightly basis compounded that fear, knowing that the snark and swagger of The Survivor was hiding Killian's soft heart filled her with a dreadful sense of foreboding that she could not shake.

Yes, he should stay here where he would be safe. Possibly even in the holding cell where no powers could penetrate. _Oh._ Of course he didn't want to be locked up again, not even for his own safety.

 _Especially not for his own safety,_ Emma thought bitterly.

“I'm not sleeping here tonight.”

“I'll poof you out.” The words were out of her mouth before she had chance to think twice. Yes, if she took him home, she could make sure he was safe. If she didn't, he'd only do something dumb like try to sneak out. Unless they literally locked him in that cell - and tempting though that was, she couldn't trap him like that after what he'd just been through.

She tried not to notice when Killian looked at her with surprise and confusion. “Come again?”

“I can - I can poof you out.” She quickly averted her eyes from him, not trusting herself to not break down over her worry about him, and instead looked at Belle. “You're worried about him being seen? If I take TS home he won't be. Can do a few spells to keep him safe and I'll bring him back here in the morning.”

She glanced at Killian before looking back to Belle with a shrug, trying not to give away how much she wanted to do this. How much she needed to.

“If you wanted to spend the night in my bed, you only have to ask. I'm sure we'll need to use - I mean, I need to have, protection.” She had expected the innuendo, but couldn’t help but roll her eyes all the same. She avoided looking at him so he wouldn’t see how much part of her was longing to take him up on his offer.

If she stayed with him, she would have to tell him who she was and she couldn't do that. She'd come so close to losing him and they weren't even together. No, if she succumbed to her desire he would surely be doomed to die. Even allowing him to get as close to her as he was had clearly been risky.

“Whatever, I'll do the spells and run.”

To her surprise he dropped the innuendo completely. “Well? Can I be released? I'm sure if Gold really wants me dead it won't matter where I sleep.”

“Fine, but seriously, let The Saviour protect you, okay?” Belle replied.

He turned to Emma and held out his hand. “Come now, love, my life is in your hands.”

She reached out and took his hand, poofing them into his apartment in a cloud of pure white magic. She felt the reassuring warmth of his hand in hers, absent-mindedly stroking the back of his hand with her fingers.

When she realised what she was doing she dropped his hand and stepped away from him. Feeling a blush rising in her cheeks at what she’d just done, she briskly moved onto business. “I'll just set up some protection spells.”

“Thanks. And I'll... I'll be in my room. Checking my phone. Seeing if I was missed.”

She winced as the thought of the message he had waiting from her came to mind. She was a little ashamed of how angry she had been with him - and to think he’d been suffering while she’d been sending him snide texts.

She busied herself with casting every protective charm, enchantment and magical barrier she knew. The only way she could be any more certain of his safety would be to spend the night, and that just wasn’t an option.

At last, when she’d reached the limits of her knowledge, she took a deep breath and looked in on Killian in his room.

“Um, TS?” He was holding his phone and looking exhausted and sad. Her heart ached for him in that moment. She wanted to comfort him - but she wasn’t sure if she should. “I'm finished. I should probably go.”

“Thanks. If you'd like to stay the night I'll be sure to show you how grateful I am.” The banter was there, but his delivery was off. He looked hopeless and unhappy - what he really needed was sleep, not an uncomfortable night with her.

“Yeah, right.” She meant to sound breezy - teasing him in their usual way - but the air was heavy with their exhaustion and the weight of saving the world was sitting heavy on her soul.

“I might need protecting in bed. Is leaving a risk you're willing to take?”

She was sure that the note of desperation she thought she heard in his voice was just a projection of her own desires. “Goodnight, Survivor,” she said and poofed into her living room, abruptly ending their conversation before he could persuade her to stay. She longed to go back to him, but a voice inside whispered that she was doing what she needed to do to keep the man she loved safe. She crumpled into a heap on the floor and sobbed.

 

She spent her night fretting until at some point exhaustion claimed her and she dreamt of being wrapped in Killian’s embrace. When she awoke at last she was surprised to see that he wasn’t there and she found herself feeling terribly alone.

She moved sluggishly, eating pop tarts and drinking coffee in quantities that she knew would make Killian wince if he were here. She tried not to think about the fact that she could be spending the morning with him, if only she were a little braver - or a lot more selfish.

There was just a few minutes to go before she had to collect Killian when her phone rang. She groaned and looked down at it and was surprised to see his face grinning up at her on the screen.

_Talk about bad timing - why is he calling when we have to go save the world in a minute?_

“Hello?” she asked, utterly confused.

“Morning, Swan. Did you miss me?” It was disconcerting how _normal_ he was being. What on earth was going on?

“I. Um. I...” she stammered, not knowing how to react.

“Oh, I see,” his voice sounded small, “didn't even notice I was gone?”

“No!” Emma blurted out in horror, this was the worst conversation ever and they really didn’t have time for this shit. “I noticed! I…”

“You know, that doesn't really matter,” he cut her off. “I called to explain where I've been.”

Her heart stopped. Was he about to unmask himself to her? Oh God, he was. She felt like an even bigger asshole for not telling him the truth about herself already, but they just didn’t have the time. “You weren't on vacation?” she said, hoping she sounded cool.

“No. You see, I'm - I'm Hook, or The Survivor, depending on who you ask.” _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! she screamed internally. You have to tell him now, you_ have _to._ “I know it's a lot to take in, but I didn't abandon you, Emma. I was. Well. I was captured. I would never deliberately leave you without a word, I couldn't do that to you. I know you're good at knowing when someone is lying to you, so please believe me.”

“I do. Believe you, that is.” _because I’m The Saviour. Surprise!_ God that sounded lame, but she had to tell him. _You have to protect him,_ whispered another voice. She was too confused to handle this right now.

“Thank you -”

She felt irrationally angry at him for springing this on her. “Why are you telling me now?”

“I'm off to save the world, it's a dangerous job. I'm sure you understand.”

“Yeah, but. Don't you do that a lot?” She tried to keep the irritation from her voice. He was her best friend and she should care about him revealing this to her. She was a terrible person.

“Been keeping up on my alter ego's exploits? You're not a superhero groupie, are you? I remember the time I caught you reading that magazine article about me.”

She rolled her eyes - trust him to bring that up at a time like this. “I just want to know why this time is different,” she pressed.

“I just want to be honest with you.”

_Fuck._

She had to be brave and do the same. She could be honest with him, this was Killian, her Survivor, her best friend, her love.

“Well I -” her Nevengers phone beeped, sparks crackled from her fingertips as her frustration swelled.

“Sorry to cut you off, but I have to go. We can talk when I'm back.”

“OK…” She knew she couldn’t tell him the truth now, but she couldn’t send him off like that. “Killian?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't disappear again.”

“As you wish,” he replied with a laugh. She could hear the strain to stay confident and upbeat in his voice.

“I mean it, come back to me.”

“Of course, Swan, you don't need to fret, I'm The Survivor.”

“Good.” She hung up and sighed deeply, that was the best she could offer him in that moment. Tears pricked at her eyes as she tried to soothe her emotions, which had been frayed to near breaking point by the conversation.

Her phone continued to beep. She jabbed at it to shut it up. She had a sudden moment of clarity. She knew what she had to do.

She poofed into Killian’s apartment.

“Ready to -” she strode up to him, grabbed him and kissed him, cutting him off mid sentence.

It was brief, but the feel of his lips hot and wet against hers was enough to send her heart racing and make her feel light headed. She was delighted to see that he looked every bit as awestruck as she did.

“For luck,” she breathed. “When all this is over, we really need to talk.”

He nodded, gazing at her in wonder. “Of course.”

She smiled, knowing she’d done the right thing. One look like that from him and she felt ready to conquer the world - and all she had to do was defeat The Dark One.

She took his hand. They were going to save the world. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like this story? Come say hi on tumblr [@katie-dub](https://katie-dub.tumblr.com/) \- or if you really love it, [buy me a coffee at ko-fi.com/katiedub](https://ko-fi.com/katiedub)


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